The Wicked and the Divine
by Nagiana
Summary: Ashara Tytos, prodigal daughter of the infamous House Tytos, is betrothed to Jaime Lannister, recently freed of his duty as a Kingsguard, and finds herself propelled into the dangerous game of thrones. Theonax Tytos, Ashara's cutthroat older brother, is betrothed to Arianne Martell, and will find that Dorne holds snakes far more dangerous than Oberyn Martell's daughters . . .
1. Chapter 1

**I'm back! If you DON'T remember me, then maybe you'll remember a little Game of Thrones fic I did a little while ago called "A Taint in the Blood" (and which is currently undergoing MAJOR editing, so please, don't go running off to read it yet if you haven't already - seriously, it's horrendous compared to my more recent stuff!) If you DO remember me and are thinking about reading, reviewing, liking, favoriting, whatever this story, this welcome back! I'll relish your support in whatever form! :)**

**Anyway, this is "The Wicked and the Divine". Its extremely AU and takes place if Jaime Lannister left the Gold Cloaks regardless of Tyrion's verdict. It starts out kinda sorta following the show but it will drastically veer off into AU territory eventually. I absolutely love my OC and her brother, who is also my OC, and hopefully, it will be much better than "A Taint in the Blood" ever was. Here's hoping!**

**Reviewing is my bread and butter as a writer. Constructive criticism helps me grow - helps me improve. That being said, I welcome your reviews (good and with constructive criticism) with open arms, but please, do not send me flames. Flames will be picked apart and crucified at the beginning of every chapter during the author's notes. You guys have been warned.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones, the books or the TV show. This work of pure, utter amazingness belongs to the brilliant George R.R. Martin. All I own are my two OC's and everyone you don't immediately recognize and which the Wiki of Ice and Fire does not immediately turn up a page on, which includes Ashara's house, House Tytos, which is of my own invention.**

**Okay, now that all the technicalities are out of the way, onwards to the story! Hope you guys enjoy it and again, please leave a review and hit that favorite/follow button. It'll help a lot :)**

**\- Nagiana**

* * *

There is nothing in the world like the devotion of a married woman. It is a thing no married man knows anything about.

\- Oscar Wilde

* * *

"How _dare _the two of you make me do this?"

Two sets of matching colored eyes flashed in the dull candlelight as mother and daughter stood opposite from the other in the very heart of their family's house. For the first time in a long time, their heads clashed over something that mother and daughter should have been in harmony with, but which now made them currently the bitterest of enemies. The mother, however, was sure that her daughter, logical and intuitive as she was, would surely see reason with the right amount of persuasion. She had birthed and raised a fool.

The mother's voice was firm with steel as she spoke: "Your father's words are law in this land, Ash. You know that as well as anyone else here."

"Yes, but a _Lannister_?" Ashara Tytos snapped as she whirled around to face her mother in a swirl of emerald green skirts. A look of bewilderment played out across her comely face. Lissianna Tytos pursed her lips in reply, and clasped her hands together in front of her tightly-laced bodice.

"Your betrothed lies dead, Ashara. Lucas Blackwood was slain at the Red Wedding. His corpse rots in Raventree's great mausoleum, while his soul now resides in its great Weirwood. Your heart, however, does not yet have permission to. You are the daughter of a great house, of an even greater family. The Tyrells wish to consolidate their position in King's Landing in every way possible. Considering that your father is such good friends with Mace and since Mace only has one daughter, it made sense for the duty of marriage to Jaime Lannister, to fall onto your head. Better you, then another house who would seek the same and beat us to it."

Ashara shook her head, her alarming ice-shatter blue eyes, wide and fierce. They seemed brighter placed in the beautiful face covered in olive-colored flesh. She had inherited a mixture of both her parents' hair colors – her father's raven-black hair that fell down to her waist in a cascading waterfall of waves, was interwoven with the natural red highlights of her mother. Lissianna's red hair – the burgundy color of a rose's petals – was gathered up behind her head in an elegant chignon. Her eyes, when they gazed at her oldest daughter, was as fierce as hers were.

There were rumors that Lissianna was from a great family that hailed from Asshai, which explained her peculiarly colored red hair that had only been seen in one other person: Stannis Baratheon's Red Woman, Melisandre of Asshai. And while she made an outward appearance of being a fervid believer of the Seven, Ashara – as her favorite daughter – knew well that her mother was a true believer of R'hller, like a majority of the people from her homeland, was.

Ashara's voice trembled as she finally spoke: "Lucas was a good man, mother. He was kind and handsome and he loved me! And I loved him too -!"

"What is _love_, Ashara, when you can have power and wield it? Power, my dear girl, is where true freedom lay," Lissianna interrupted her daughter with an irritated tone to her voice. She shook her head and took a few steps towards her, her eyes adopting a gleam that Ashara couldn't rightly place for a moment. Her long, scarlet red gown swept the marble floor as she walked, and Ashara's keen eyes followed her mother the entire time. "With your older brother gone off to Dorne, _you _are the current future of House Tytos, my dear, until the seas of politics calm and he comes home to us. Jaime Lannister _will be _the next Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport and Warden of the West. The power he will wield will be untold and _you _must be there to make sure that power is used to further the aims of House Tyrell, and – more importantly – of House Tytos."

Ashara silently inspected her mother for a moment. Rarely, did Lissianna ever speak of her older brother, Theonax, the fierce Eagle of Tytos and her most headstrong child. Currently off in Dorne as the replacement head of the Princess Myrcella's bodyguard, he was well known for his ruthlessness and his 'kill now, ask questions later' mentality. Rumors persisted that he was Oberyn Martell's good friend, and a trusted confidante to him, despite his young age. To Ashara, those rumors said all that needed to be said about her brother. However, her and her brother got along well, and he was sweet and loyal to his family - more than ready to rip out the throat of anyone who dared to make a move against the infamous House.

Eventually, she gave a heavy swallow. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet. "He is a _thirty-five_-year-old Knight with one hand. I am a nineteen-year-old girl who is the daughter of a noble family underneath House Tyrell." Lissianna arched an amused brow.

"He is a _handsome_ and _disgustingly_ wealthy thirty-five-year-old Knight with one hand, who has just become the most eligible bachelor in all of Westeros. And you, my darling daughter, are a nineteen-year-old _woman _with the ability to bear him not only sons and daughters, but the sons and daughters with the blood of R'hllor fire and the roar of lions!"

Ashara shook her head. "Why do you need _me_ for this? Why not get one of the others to marry him?" She asked and immediately, Lissianna released a snort of laughter and a roll of her eyes.

"Which do you mean - Satine or Alysanne?" She shook her head. "Are you daft, Ashara? No, I and your father have perfected this plan down to the very last detail – we have bled, sweated and toiled over the details and the diplomacy too much in order to watch as one of your sisters fumbles it up! Alysanne is much too young to be of any interest to Jaime, and Satine is not nearly intelligent enough to be able to keep him in her grasp once she has enthralled him. You, however, are both beautiful and intelligent enough to enthrall and then keep him, Ashara. It _must _be you, sweet thing, in order for this to work."

There had not been one moment, in her entire life, where Ashara had ever doubted that her mother and father did not make one of the best strategic marriages she had ever seen – the love between them had come later. The both of them, with their cruel beauties and their even crueler, sharper intelligences, were perfect matches. Together, they did what her grandfather could not, and brought House Tytos higher than it ever had before. Her father had forged a firm, unshakable friendship with Mace Tyrell while her mother formed the same with his wife, Lady Alerie and her mother-in-law, Lady Olenna. Ashara and her sisters had grown up good friends with the Tyrell children, with Ashara forming a particularly close, sisterly bond with Margaery. Theonax and Willas had become good friends – forging their own strong friendship over horses, hounds and hawking. Their fates and futures were inexplicably tied, House Tytos and House Tyrell, with their bond growing stronger by the day.

Eventually, Ashara realized that she would have to accept her fate - she had no other option. Her father and mother would never allow her to say no and she knew they would find a way to make her say yes. In fact, if she wasn't sure that Lucas had died at the Red Wedding beside Robb Stark and the rest of his men, she would bet her life on the fact that one of her parents had him killed so that they could pave the way for a much more fortuitous union as the one currently being brought to them on a golden tray.

_Jaime Lannister . . . _She thought, mulling the name over and over in her mind. _The Kingslayer . . ._

Eventually, she gave another heavy swallow, and leveled her mother with a much softer gaze. However, a fierce fire still raged in the icy blue depths of her eyes. Lissianna gave a smug smile at the sight of that fire – knowing that it would never be extinguished - and stepped closer to her daughter. She reached out and her fingers played with a long curl of her daughter's red black hair.

"We will depart for King's Landing in two days' time. Once there, you will meet your betrothed and then with Margaery and Olenna to discuss the wedding preparations. We have arranged a joint marriage for the two of you. You and Jaime shall marry directly after Margaery marries the King in the Sept of Baelor. The feast will be a celebration of two marriages instead of one – the uniting of four great families: Baratheon, Lannister, Tyrell and Tytos. You will endear yourself to him – woo him, _enthrall_ him! Make him love you and adore you to the point to where he worships you and the ground you walk on and would even _die _for you! Give him a son and a daughter if you wish – make him love and adore them, as well. After that, take control the reins of power through him. Theonax, meanwhile, will marry the beautiful Arianne Martell and will come to the Dornish throne upon the death of Doran, if his rather impetuous bride has anything to say about it. And when the mighty Tywin Lannister finally breathes his last, feel proud and powerful, my sweet thing, for the great Lannister family and indeed, the entire realm, will be controlled by you: the eldest daughter of the glorious House Tytos, with the might of the Dornish army at your back."

Ashara shook her head, feeling it rather hard to breath at the sudden weight and pressure just placed upon her by her mother. "You . . . you put too much faith in me mother. How do you even know I will succeed – that I have the _power _to succeed?" She asked, and Lissianna continued to smile that small, secretive smile of hers as she pressed a loving kiss to her daughter's temple.

"You will succeed because you are my daughter and you have inherited all that I am and I am proud of you because of that! You will succeed because, like me and your brother, you are one of R'hllor's faithful and He always graces those who are faithful to His Light. But most of all, you will succeed, Ashara, because failure is not an option – not for this family – _never _for this family."

* * *

The ride from Etna, the seat of House Tytos, was a long, slow ride, hampered by rain, thick mud and the slow trails of peasants moving towards the nearest big cities, including King's Landing and Highgarden.

The ride was bumpy, uncomfortable and quite frankly, Ashara found herself developing a headache ten minutes into the journey. While her father rode with the men, a leather gloved hand constantly on the hilt of his sword while the other held a firm hold on the reins of his warhorse, Ashara and her mother had the misfortune to be placed in the carriage with her two younger sisters. Satine and Alysanne – two sisters who were currently arguing over the most handsome men at court (or who was going to _be _at court, anyway) and their odds on hooking them for a marriage.

"Ser Tallad is supposed to be at court; I do hope he notices me . . .!" Alysanne spoke with a bright sparkle in her eyes and a hopeful tone to her voice. Satine rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Forget Ser Tallad, Aly! I happen to think Osney Kettleblack is a _much _better match for a Tytos -!"

"Once your sister marries Jaime and your brother marries Arianne, we will find suitable marriages for the both of you – do not worry a whit!" Lissianna interrupted them, her tone a peculiar mix between irritation and gentleness as she made the promise to her daughters. She, too, was starting to garner a headache from her two youngest daughters' quarreling and was desperate to put a stop to it. She shook her head. "And those marriages will not be with a Kettleblack or a simple hedge Knight like Tallad. No, your husbands will be Lannisters or – better yet – a Tyrell or a Martell or another well-to-do House underneath the Tyrells," She let out a snort of laughter as her daughters' faces fell. "A _Kettleblack _and a hedge Knight! For the love of the Seven, girls – none of the Kettleblack brothers are fit to shine your shoes, let alone be considered fit for husbands to the daughters of House Tytos, and neither is a simple hedge Knight! Perish the thought!" She shook her head before leaning forward so that her voice could better reach them. Neither Satine nor Alysanne met their mother's fierce gaze, and Ashara had to admit – it was a bit amusing. She and Theonax had always been the favorites of their mother and even secretly, their father. She had always known that was because the both of them were a lot less flighty and taken with themselves than Satine were a lot more courageous and fierce than meek Alysanne. Simply put, they were true Tytos.

"Your sister and your brother are doing the both of you favors by marrying Jaime Lannister and Arianne Martell! With these marriages, we will be tied to the Lannisters and the Martells both by marriage and eventually, by blood when she bares him a son and when Arianne bares your brother one, too. And I can also guarantee you that your father and Mace will have one of you marry either Loras or Willas next – both, if possible - that way we will be tied to our patron house in more ways than just friendship! Doran Martell also has two sons that will eventually need wives, as well. They too, are much better options."

"We are women, dear sisters," Ashara spoke up, her tone gentler than their mother's was, and it was because of this gentle tone, that her sister's turned their eyes onto her instead of their mother. "We go where our father commands us to. We marry who he commands us to and we bear their children with no complaint. It is all part of political machinations and love is very rarely taken into consideration." Lissianna smiled a small smile and nodded in agreement with her daughter's words.

"Your sister is right. A smart woman, however, knows that if she gains enough affection and respect from her husband, she can eventually become his partner and his closest confidante. She can control many things through love alone. Behind every great man is an even greater woman – don't you three ever forget that!" She told them, her eyes lingering the longest on Ashara's, and they all answered with a nod and a murmured: "Yes, mother."

Ashara didn't know where her mother drew her great faith in her from, because she certainly didn't have it herself. Jaime Lannister was the _Kingslayer -_ a veritable Lion amongst men – the eldest son of Tywin Lannister. He had been captured by Robb Stark at the Whispering Wood, lost his sword hand, fucked his sister, fathering three incestuous bastards off of her and he was _still _considered the Lannister Golden Boy and the most eligible bachelor in Westeros. How could she possibly be so great as to enthrall him to the point that her mother wished her to and had faith in?

Ashara spent the rest of the ride to King's Landing silently praying to R'hllor for the strength and guidance she didn't have. R'hllor, the God that only she, her mother and her brother alone worshiped, for her sisters were much like their father in the fact that they worshiped the Seven. She prayed all she could in that short carriage ride, knowing that once she arrived at King's Landing, she would have to pretend to forsake her God, in favor of the false ones of her future husband – the same as her mother had done for nineteen long years.

She prayed that she had inherited her mother's fierce determination and strength. She would need it if she was to become a Lannister Lioness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here we are, the second chapter and the introduction chapter of Theonax himself. I absolutely adore Theonax, although I hope that I have not written Arianne _too _OOC. If I have, I will be really sad :(**

**Anyway! Please, read, review and enjoy!**

**\- Nagiana**

* * *

Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.

\- Aristotle

* * *

When they reached King's Landing and stepped down from the carriage, the sudden death grip her mother latched onto her arm, made her jump and her eyes to widen. That grip told Ashara that the men meeting them, were not who they had expected. There were four in all: a young man holding the Lannister standard and a bored older man with slicked back black hair and sparse beard of the same color. However, it was the other two that had garnered the attention of both Typhon and Lissianna Tytos.

The two men were clearly Lannisters, for one could pick out their matching golden blonde hair and green eyes from seemingly miles away. One was tall and lean and muscular – positively handsome, in fact. The other, however, was the opposite. He was a dwarf disfigured by a long, nasty looking scar stretching diagonal across the length of his face and which had taken his nose. Ashara barely caught her mother's whispered words that the dwarf was Tyrion Lannister while the tall one was her betrothed himself, Jaime. Tyrion was Jaime's younger brother, and Ashara nodded in understanding. Tyrion was as infamous as his older brother and sister was – she didn't think anyone in the Seven Kingdoms had not heard at least something of him.

Ashara folded her arm through her mother's and Lissianna allowed her to with a tight grip of her own on her daughter's hand. They followed demurely behind their father as he marched confidently to greet the men waiting for them. Satine and Alysanne walked behind Ashara and their mother while a man marched beside them carrying the Tytos standard of a fierce golden brown eagle on a black background.

"I did . . . I did not anticipate him being one of the men who would be meeting us . . ." Lissianna murmured to her daughter, and Ashara swallowed hard. She could feel the alarm that coursed through her mother's body and felt nervous because of it. "I had assumed that his brother would meet us and then escort us – or you – to him once we reached the castle. But apparently . . . apparently, Jaime wanted to escort you up to King's Landing himself!"

"Is that good?" Ashara asked with a fervid glance in her direction, and Lissianna was quick to return the glance.

"He probably just wants to make sure that you are everything your father promised to Tywin that you are. Don't you worry, my sweet thing – you are everything your father said and _more_!" She told her with a comforting smile, and Ashara had to admit – she felt better at her mother's hushed words. And when they finally reached the two men, the smallest – Tyrion – smiled graciously and inclined his head towards Typhon Tytos.

"Greetings, Lord Typhon! I am Tyrion Lannister and this is my older brother, Jaime. We are here to escort you up to King's Landing." He introduced himself and Typhon inclined his head back, his smile tight, however, where Tyrion's had been gracious.

Ashara could already feel Jaime's eyes boring into her, and she was careful to train her eyes onto the ground ahead of them. Until she got to know him better – until she figured out what kind of woman he desired - Ashara knew that she was to only speak unless spoken to.

"Your warm greetings are well received, Lord Tyrion. I am Lord Typhon of House Tytos – Vassal Lord of Mace Tyrell of Highgarden. This is my lovely wife, Lissianna, and our three daughters, Ashara, Satine and Alysanne," He introduced them, and Tyrion inclined his head to each, his gaze lingering for a moment longer on Ashara, than any of the others and it was then that Jaime inclined his head to them, as well. Ashara felt herself blush as he smiled and crossed the distance between them. Her eyes flitted down to the immovable gold hand covering the stump where his old hand had been before it had been lopped off, but they quickly flitted back to his eyes before he could notice where they had been. His eyes were beautiful, too – a beautiful, bright emerald green, and she felt herself become breathless at the sight of them.

"Lady Ashara here, is my betrothed, correct?" He asked, and Typhon nodded.

"Yes, she is, Lord Jaime. I hope she is to . . . your satisfaction?" He asked, the tone of his voice nervous at the prospect of the Lannister's incoming words. There was no need to worry, though. Jaime continued to smile as he stepped closer to her. He took up her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it in a sweet kiss.

"Yes very, Lord Typhon. I see my father had not been lying when he spoke of your beauty, Lady Ashara." He spoke, directing his last words to her and to her alone, and she smiled and gave a slight, gracious curtsy.

"Thank you, Lord Jaime. I hope I will . . . be the wife you have always wanted." She replied, not sure what to say for a moment, and he continued to smile, as if there was no need for her to think she would not be, as he offered her his arm. She recoiled slightly but after casting an uncertain glance back towards her mother, who urged her quickly, excitingly forward, she took it with a smile of her own. She felt the strong curve of his bicep through the tight, tan leather of his overcoat, and swallowed hard at the feeling.

Thirty-five-year-old man with one hand or not, her mother had been right – Jaime Lannister _was _extremely handsome.

And she was his betrothed . . .

His future wife . . . her future husband . . . the future father to her children . . .

Together, they would be Lord and Lady Lannister . . .

And suddenly – quite suddenly – Ashara felt an excited trill spread throughout her body at the thought. Lady Ashara Lannister, wife and beloved to Lord Jaime Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport and Warden of the West.

She could certainly get used to it, she thought.

* * *

It was midday when they finally collapsed, chests heaving and skin slick with sticky sweat, to the scented, silk swathed bed underneath them. Theonax, whose sexual appetites had been vociferous his entire life since he first hit the tail ends of his puberty, caught his breath entirely too quickly, whereas it took a moment longer for Arianne Martell to do the same.

The beautiful heiress to Dorne, lay beside him, gasping for the breath she did not have, her lips and nipples swollen from the greedy, biting kisses of her passionate lover. She ached between her thighs but there was also the leftover remnants of a pleasurable tingle there, as well, that made the whole encounter between them, quite permissible. He might prefer it rough and his whispered words during the act might make the most talented whores of Lys blush, but the handsome bastard sure knew how to fuck.

And that seemed the only thing they ever did.

After a moment, Theonax swept to the side and rose gracefully and easily to his feet. Stride firm and fluid like one of the desert cats, he marched over to the pitcher of water, where he poured them each a goblet. Releasing a breathless laugh, Arianne shook her head in bewilderment. "How are you not exhausted, yet?" She asked, and Theonax replied with a chuckle.

"Much, _much _experience," He muttered as he finished and picked up the two goblets. Moving over to her, he shot her that cocky, indelible smirk as he held the goblet out to her. "Here, drink this . . . _wife_ . . ." He spoke, and she shot him an arched brow of amusement as she sat up and took the goblet from him.

"I thank you. _Husband_." She spoke and he grinned and watched as she tossed her thick mane of black hair behind her, before draining the goblet in three big gulps. She then held it out to him. "More."

Theonax gave another chuckle at her commanding words as he handed her his. He then turned around and plopped the empty goblet back on the table. He'd ring for a servant to bring them more water in a minute. He wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to go another round.

So instead, he turned and plopped down onto the bed, where he stretched out on his side beside her. She watched him suspiciously for a moment before he wrapped a hand around her neck and brought her down for a gentle kiss. His free hand splayed out over one curvaceous thigh, and when they broke apart, she smiled. It was a beautiful smile that made his love for her deepen. Theonax had never once thought he would ever fall in love or be a man fit for monogamy. But when he met his match in the fiery, strong-willed Arianne Martell, he knew he would fall-over-heels in love with the Dornish Princess, and he had. He would do anything for her – kill for her, steal for her – even _die _for her. And if he was being perfectly honest, he figured he was the first man in her entire life that she knew would do such things for her on the slightest of whims.

"Enough for today, my love, please – I relent!" She murmured and he couldn't help but grin as he brought her back down to him.

"That's what you said . . . three rounds . . . ago." He spoke in-between kisses, and she gave a tinkling laugh as she pulled away from him.

"God's blood, Theonax – are you _sure _you aren't half Dornish?" She asked and he laughed as well as he turned onto his back. He clasped his hands behind his head and lay there, where he shook his head

"Yes, I'm pretty sure I'm not. But my mother hails from Asshai, though, if that means anything."

Arianne arched a teasing brow. "Your mother hails from the land of shadows and magic? Tell me, Theonax, will our children be born warlocks and witches with cloven hooves and forked tails?" She asked, and he gave a laugh.

"Let's get married before we talk of children, love. One thing at a time."

She fell on him then, her hand splaying out on his chest as she draped her curvaceous but lithe form over his. Her eyes glittered like jewels in the slight gloom of her rooms. "You say that, my love, but you certainly fuck me like you want me with your child." She teased and he rolled his eyes and gave a laugh.

"Fine, you want honesty? I want to marry you, Arianne, but like always, your father drags his feet and _my _father becomes impatient. My father is not a man you want to become impatient and is not a man you want to offend. You are also the best woman I have ever had in bed, which is why I am so eager to fuck you constantly. And if you just so _happen _to fall with my child that ends up forcing your father's hand, then . . ." That cocky smirk appeared on his face again as he twirled a lock of her thick hair around his finger, as he arched an amused brow. "So be it. I won't complain. Quite the contrary, I'd be overjoyed."

Arianne bit down on her bottom lip as she slowly traced the outline of his collarbone with the tip of one taloned finger. "Arianne Tytos, Princess of Dorne and Lady of House Tytos . . . I like those titles." She spoke, and Theonax nodded as he leaned up and pressed his lips to hers again.

"Good. Because I like how they sound on you. Prettier than any necklace or piece of jewelry."

She gave a husky laugh as one slender hand came up to cup his cheek. She deepened the kiss and allowed him to curl his hands over her voluptuous hips before sliding her on top of him. He hardened against the smooth flesh of her belly and she laughed into his mouth. "I bet you get that way with every woman who kisses you." She teased and he shook his head as his buried his hands in her hair and deepened their kiss still. His tongue entered her mouth, thick and inviting, and curled with hers.

"I kiss no other woman but you, Arianne. My cock rises for no one but you."

The words, coming from such an outspoken former philanderer, sent a warm trill throughout her entire body. She parted her thighs for his hand and gave an encouraging moan upon feeling the tips of his fingers caress the tender, hidden flesh located there. They were cut short, however, upon a persistent knock echoing on the door. They were able to ignore it, of course, but upon a second, even more persistent beating, Theonax released a string of colorful curse words before pushing her none-too-kindly aside and rose to his feet. Moving towards the door, unabashed in his nudity, he flung it open with more anger than he had originally intended.

Standing on the threshold was his second-in-command, a Gold Cloak named Arys Oakheart. He sighed and relaxed, releasing an irritated sound as he yanked a sheet off the nearby table to cover himself. Arys seemed unfazed by his Commander's nudity, though, for his eyes were pinned on Arianne. She did not shift underneath his gaze, but stiffened slightly, raising her head rather imperiously as she did so. She was long used to men gazing at her so blatantly, but upon catching him, he at least had the tact to look away, blushing lightly. Theonax smirked.

"What is it, Oakheart? Can you not see that I am rather indisposed at the moment?"

He cleared his throat. "Letter for you, Ser. It's from your sister."

Theonax arched a brow that held tinges of unmistakable concern. He had replied to his sister's last letter – he had been too busy. And Ashara always waited for him to reply to her before writing him again. So, understandably, this quite sudden letter took him off guard and caused a trill of concern to dart all-throughout his body. What was this about? Was she alright?

"Ashara? What about?"

Arys shrugged. "Don't know, Ser. I didn't check. I thought it best for your eyes to read it first." Theonax nodded.

"Good man. Now go on, you're dismissed. But send in some servants with some fresh water on the way out, will you?" Arys nodded as Theonax closed the door and turned around, quickly undoing the wax seal and unrolling the parchment. His eyes quickly scanned his sister's tight, fluid hand and only spoke when Arianne asked him what it said.

"My sister . . . is getting married to Jaime Lannister." He spoke, awe lacing his voice, and immediately, Arianne's brows threatened to disappear up into her hairline.

"The Kingslayer? But isn't he a Gold Cloak?" Theonax gave a shrug as he quickly rescanned the words written on the parchment before him.

"Apparently, the King is absolving his uncle of his vows. And Tywin is apparently making the most out of his suddenly free son by betrothing him to Ash."

Arianne gave a bitter 'tch', and tossed her thick black curtain of hair behind her shoulder. "Your sister's betrothal to the Kingslayer will last mere weeks, while ours have been on the table for _months_!"

"No thanks to your _father_ . . .!" Theonax muttered bitterly before crumpling up the parchment and tossing it onto the nearby table with anger and irritation lacing every movement. He would burn it later, lest it be fodder for the noblemen of the Dornish court. Although, he seriously doubted that everyone was not already aware of his sister's future. Such a betrothal would be all over Westeros with the ferocity and quickness of wildfire.

Arianne nodded in agreement and fell silent for a moment. When she eventually spoke, her voice was quiet and bitter. "I will pray that I am with child soon, so that my father will _finally _be forced to sign that damn contract!"

He gave a small smile. "And what if he doesn't? What if you being with my child, forces his hand in the other direction? What if he sends me away in anger and you stay here, confined and forced to give birth to a bastard with the last name of Sand, like all your cousins? What will you do then?"

Arianne turned a fierce gaze onto him then, almost as if she was furious he would even ask such a question. Her spine straightened – her head rose. He smiled, his respect and love for her skyrocketing. "My child would grow up knowing of its father and his greatness. And it would grow up hating his grandfather because it would _know_ that its mother remained unwed for the rest of her life because she would rather have died a spinster and a whore, than marry a man who was not Theonax Tytos. You would foster him and teach him to be a great warrior! My son _would _grow up a Tytos, regardless of his name."

A silence fell between them, then, that was punctuated only by the opening of the door. A servant hurried inside with a pitcher full of cool water. It was in front of this servant that Theonax finally spoke, his voice quiet and loving: "And I would rather die, than marry a woman who was not Arianne Martell."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you everyone who liked and followed this story, it means a lot to me. Some reviews, though, would be amazing :)**

**I want to make a point in this particular author's note. I HAVE read the books and I do watch the show. However, the show looks like it going to get many things incorrect when it comes to Dorne, the Martells in particular. Considering that the Martells are my favorite family in the world of the novels, I WILL be going by the books in this fanfic, not the show. For instance, in the show, Tyene is a brunette. In the books, she's a blonde, hence, she will be a blonde in this fic. The show labels Tyene as a daughter of Oberyn and Ellaria, in the books, she is not. In the show, Areo Hotah is black, in the book, he's white, etc etc. Just wanted to clear that up so there's no confusion later on :)**

**I want to thank the anonymous reviewer Guest for pointing out something that I got wrong in the first two chapters. Thank you, friend, it has been changed :)**

**Anyway! Read, review and enjoy!**

**\- Nagiana**

* * *

_"Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent then the one derived from fear of punishment."_

_\- Mahatma Gandhi_

* * *

They were left in the gardens to their own devices after walking up to the Holdfast as a group. Jaime and Ashara walked through the beautiful, lush foliage of the Holdfast's gardens, where others had also had the same idea. Couples strolled, young noble girls and their Septas sat on benches doing needlepoint or reading. Guards and Kingsguard were posted here and there at all the entrances, letting them royalty was _somewhere _within the twisting, turning paths. Ashara's two sisters trailed a modest ways behind them as chaperones, although Ashara wondered numerous times how good of chaperones they would inherently be. The two younger girls giggled amongst themselves the entire time, glancing to and fro at handsome Knights and beautiful ladies as they passed, absolutely caught up in the luxuriousness and glamour of the court. Jaime, numerous times, glanced over his shoulder at them in amusement, and after a moment, Ashara apologized.

Jaime turned a look of confusion down onto her at her words. "For what?"

"They are young girls who have seen nowhere but the walls of our home and of those of Highgarden. They are . . . they are easily amused." Jaime chuckled.

"Show me two girls their age who are _not _easily amused!" He spoke, and she nodded in agreement before they fell into silence. After a moment, Jaime broke the silence between them, his voice gentle but surprisingly . . . uneasy. "Look, Lady -"

"Please, call me Ashara, or even Ash. 'Lady' just seems so . . . I don't know, it makes me feel stifled when I don't have to be." She spoke, and he smiled and nodded.

"Only if you call me Jaime in return." She nodded and smiled.

"And here I was, planning to call you 'Kingslayer' our entire marriage!" She quipped, and Jaime chuckled and shook his head.

"The name would be well-deserved but one I would not relish hear falling from your lips, Lady – Ashara!" He quickly corrected, and she smiled as he picked up where she had interrupted him last time. "Look, Ashara, I . . . I realize this betrothal might not have been what you wanted, but I assure you that I am different than what the rumors of me whisper – than what I used to be!" He told her and while she stayed silent, allowing him to continue, Ashara really wanted to speak up and tell him that she wasn't all that heartbroken about it – not anymore, at least. She could sense the good in him now and hoped that it would stay. She would have hated to see Theonax's reaction to her husband _not _treating her like a Queen. "I assure you, Lady Ashara, that I will be a good husband to you – faithful and loving and supportive. I will not raise my hand to you. I will not cuckhold you, I will not -"

"I know." She finally spoke, interrupting him with a smile, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Y-You know?"

She nodded, and finally glanced up at him, her eyes meeting his dead-on for a moment before she returned them ahead of them. He did the same and pretended not to notice when she deepened her arm through his and moved closer to him. He pretended not to notice those who gazed upon them with curious looks on their faces and who soon moved to whisper and titter behind their hands. He pretended not to notice how many spies of his sister, his brother, his father – Littlefinger – lingered in the gardens around them. He pretended not to notice Varys' birds, either, flittering to and fro. In King's Landing – in the Game of Thrones – you learn which things need to be ignored and which things not to be ignored, and he hoped that his new bride was a quick learner. She seemed to be, though; appearing already wary of the many people flittering around them and those who gazed upon them and whispered behind their hands. He smiled at this. Oh yes, he was quite confidante now that his wife would navigate these dangerous seas quite adeptly after a few weeks – shorter if he gave his guiding hand.

She nodded. "I knew it upon first setting eyes on you. You've changed, Ser Jaime – I can see that. You used to be impetuous and hot-blooded. You've grown as a man since losing your hand – gained an outlook on life that you probably never would have gained otherwise. No longer can you threaten and beat people into submission because you no longer have something to make them fear you. Instead, you now have to think things through – put your thoughts in order as they occur to you. You have to think about what you say before you say them now," She shot him a small, gentle smile. "I left Etna thinking I would be forced to marry an cruel man who I would wake up every day ruing. I am relieved to know that I will instead, willingly be marrying a man who now knows the definition of honor. A man who has changed, and for the better. A _good_ man."

Jaime's heart warmed at the younger woman's words. When he had first been told by his father to cast aside his Kingsguard cloak in favor of a Lord's title and means and responsibilities, he had abhorred the idea. He had nevertheless agreed, though, because, really, what else could he have done? It was clear Cersei no longer cared for him anymore than she once had now that his hand was gone and with it, what had inherently made him so powerful and dangerous and thrilling to her. He felt all alone in the world for once, with only Tyrion - halfway disgraced as he was - to keep him company. He didn't know how to run a city. He didn't know how to keep people happy, how to be diplomatic when the situation called for it. He had never learned because he had become a Kingsguard as soon as he was able. What he _did _know how to do, was wage war - fight. He knew how to command, he _used _to know how to wield a sword. He hadn't wanted to marry a woman he didn't know – have children with a woman who he may or may not grow to love despite it all. He was pleased, though, to know that Ashara seemed to be different. He didn't know her, that was the thing – didn't know her _yet_. But that one little speech made him feel infinitely better about his future now.

It made him feel infinitely better, knowing she was destined to be in it.

He smiled at her words, and she returned the smile as they descended into another, more comfortable silence. They continued to walk the tiled paths a moment longer before Ashara's eyes finally fell onto the hard, unforgiving gold taking the place of his missing hand. It was on the arm hers was looped with, and gently – fearlessly - her fingers brushed it. Immediately, his eyes darted down to her fingers before moving back up her eyes. Once again, she could sense the nervousness in his gaze. Did it worry him, that the sight of the gold hand was disgusting to people? Even Cersei was known to look away in disgust at her brother's hand, knowing what it used to be.

"Do you . . . does it hurt? I have heard tales of men losing limbs, only to continue feeling them for years afterwards." The tips of her fingers traced the grooves etched within the beautiful gold and for a moment - an achingly human moment - Jaime wished that the hand was made flesh so that he could feel those fingers in his.

"Occasionally," He spoke, deciding to be truthful to her. "It is strange, feeling them. Itches, aches . . . sometimes, I think that if I just concentrate hard enough, I can . . . I feel my hand clenching," She stayed silent then as he quickly added. "I apologize if it unsettles you, Ashara."

He watched as the movements of her fingers came to a sudden stop. Then, in a move he considered very bold, she moved to wrap those fingers of hers, around the ones of the hand – grasping them in hers in what he knew was a gentle grip that once again, he wished he could feel. "Don't be silly, Ser. Jaime. Why would such a simple things as a replacement hand, unsettle me?"

Jaime wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her at those words. She was the first person who had yet to look at his hand in a light that was anything but openness and even curiosity. With everyone else, it had been met with glares of awe, abhorrence and even smirks and sneers – like what kind of swordsman of Jaime's caliber would _ever _allow his sword hand to be lopped off?

The kind of swordsman who did not have a sword in his hand during the situation he had been in, but who cared about knowing _that_?

As they walked, he noticed that he was starting to like the sight of her arm linked through his, her hand curling around his bicep while the other had settled upon his golden hand in a gentle grasp, more and more. He liked the picture of acceptance it painted to everyone else – those tittering spies and birds and giggling noble girls whose heads were as empty as flowerpots. His future, which had seemed so bleak up till then, suddenly seemed so much brighter.

He felt a flower of warmth bloom in his chest for her and while it was a far cry from love by any stretch of the imagination, it still let him know – with particular finality – that, that love could and _would _eventually come.

He couldn't wait.

* * *

Doran Martell, Prince of Dorne, and older brother to Oberyn and Elia Martell, had an abject hatred for the hot-blooded young Theonax Tytos. The young man, who had been sent to Dorne as the replacement head of Princess Myrcella's honor guard at the behest of Tywin Lannister himself, was the very antithesis of everything Doran hated in a man. He hated that Typhon Tytos, with his overzealousness and his overblown sense of superiority for a man whose family descended from mere horse breeders (albeit _good _horse breeders), was so bent on betrothing his son to Arianne, that he would have sacrificed his own _mother _to the Gods if he knew the marriage contract would have been signed the next day. He hated how cockily Theonax Tytos walked, how skillfully he fought with a sword, how he could ride a horse so damn well that even _Oberyn _took notice. He hated how silver-tongued the bastard was – how very much _like_ Doran's brother he was (maybe _that _was why Oberyn had such a fondness for him)! He hated deeply his daughter was in love with him – what she would be willing to do for him in exchange for his merest word and glance and caress.

He hated how much Theonax loved _her_. What _he _would be willing to do for her in exchange for her merest word and glance and caress.

He would not deny, at least to himself, that the only reason his daughter remained unwed at twenty-three, was because he feared her marrying and inheriting the throne upon his death. He feared the seat of Dorne falling into the hands of her husband – into the hands of a son or a daughter who would carry her husband's name and not the name of 'Martell'. He especially abhorred the thought of the throne of Dorne coming into Tytos hands – wanted nothing more but to perish the thought of that damnable House getting any more power than they already had just out of reach of their fingertips. But Typhon was a powerful man, not to be denied and not to be meddled with. His holdings were vast, his armies fierce, his allies fiercer. Doran might hate the Tytos' but he knew them enough to not anger them, especially the Eagle that his daughter had so recently fallen in love with.

An Eagle who would eventually break her heart.

"Ser, there is another missive from Lord Tytos that arrived this morning. He wishes to know when the marriage contract between his son and Arianne will be finalized."

Doran closed his eyes and sucked in a breath at Areo's words spoken on a deep, rumbling voice. The massive man held out the roll of parchment to him, sealed with the golden brown eagle of Tytos, and Doran opened his eyes before wearily taking it from him. After unsnapping the seal and rolling it out, his eyes quickly scanned the words written in Typhon Tytos' hand before he scowled.

"The gall of this man is galvanizing!"

"He is becoming rather adamant -"

"His daughter is marrying Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, Areo. The betrothal is common knowledge and the marriage contract has been set in stone. The wedding will take place in the Sept of Baelor right after King Joffrey's marriage to the Lady Margaery Tyrell. No doubt a very dubious honor. And also, no doubt, another feather in his cap that he shall lord over all those who have the stomach to listen," He shook his head. "I detest betrothing my daughter to the son of such a man, but at this point . . ." He trailed off into a pensive silence, and Areo didn't question it. He knew that silence well.

So they remained there for a moment, Areo standing and Doran sitting, and watched the scene play out before them. They watched, silently, as Theonax ran around the Water Gardens, playing with Oberyn's four youngest – the girls he had with Ellaria Sand – Elia, Obella, Dorea, and Loreza. Arianne stood a little ways off, watching them, her cousin Tyene Sand, another of Oberyn's bastard Sand Snakes, standing beside her. The younger girl's blonde hair was pulled up underneath her customary silken headscarf, and the two young women smiled and conversed quietly between them as they watched Arianne's betrothed play with Tyene's child half-sisters.

Doran, however, shook his head as he observed this scene, especially when Princess Myrcella entered the picture and all playing came to a stop for a brief moment, accompanied by her own betrothed, Trystane, Doran's youngest. Theonax performed a particularly flamboyant bow to the Princess but ignored Trystane, who scowled and looked away. Myrcella, on the other hand, flushed and grinned and returned his bow with a curtsy of her own.

Doran, who often noticed the girlish crush the Princess harbored for the handsome future Lord of Etna, heaved a sigh as he shook his head. "I'll be damned if I allow this House to fall in the hands of a Tytos, Areo, you mark my words. It's not. Going. To happen."


	4. Chapter 4

**This story is really racking up the favorites and followers - I'm excited! Although more reviews really would be appreciated :)**

**Thanks you once again, the anonymous Guest, for your review. It's so heart-warming to know that my OC's are liked and that the story is liked, as well. Keep them up - I can't get enough! :)**

**Read, review and enjoy!**

**\- Nagiana**

* * *

"One loyal friend is worth one thousand relatives"

\- Euripides

* * *

"_Margaery_!"

The two young women beamed and laughed as they ran into each other's arms in an uncustomary show of childish affection between them. Their embrace was tight – loving in a sisterly bond that they had forged since the two of them were young girls. They had been much too long without each other's friendship and support in times of stress and need. It felt good to have each other in quick grasp again.

They broke apart and Margaery grinned and gave another laugh as she ran a hand down Ashara's hair before placing it on her shoulder. "Would you look at you, Ash? You are even more beautiful than the last time I saw you! I _love_ what you've done with your hair!" She spoke, and Ashara gave a laugh of her own as she shook her head.

"Look at me? Margaery, look at _you_! You look so regal now – so much like a _Queen_!"

Margaery's grin turned down into a smile, and she briefly glanced away before returning her eyes onto her friend's. "It's what I must be now, Ash – a Queen. And you, Lady Ashara Tytos, shall be one of my handmaidens - I am absolutely set upon it! For you are one of the few in this city that I can trust implicitly!" She spoke, her voice coming out uncustomarily firm, and Ashara nodded.

"Of course. I would not have it any other way." She told her, and Margaery gave her a grateful smile as they turned their attention onto the tall, fair-haired man standing beside Ashara, arm recently devoid of hers. Ashara could see the smile of amusement echoing on Jaime's face behind her, and suddenly felt very bashful and self-conscious over how they had acted, especially Margaery. Here her friend was, a future Queen in the making, having run into an old friend's arms like an impetuous child. Demurely, as if they had been caught with their hands in the proverbial cookie jar, they both quickly recollected themselves. Margaery smiled as she inclined her head to Jaime. "Ser Jaime, it is good to see you. I trust that you have been treating my dear friend well since her arrival?"

Jaime returned her greeting with one of his own before smiling. "Lady Margaery." Ashara gave a nod and answered for him as she took his hand up in hers.

"Yes, Margaery, he has been an absolute shining Knight! We took a walk through the gardens; they are very lovely." She spoke, and the corners of Jaime's lips tugged upwards into a smile as he bowed slightly. He made no move to release her hand.

"Think nothing of it, Ashara – it is what any good man would do for his betrothed. Although, as of right now, I am simply escorting Ashara, here, to the meeting she has with you and your grandmother, Lady Margaery," He quickly held up his hands then in surrender. "Don't fret, though – I have no intention of lingering! I have no desire to sit in on the idle gossip of ladies while drinking tea and eating lemon cakes." He assured her with a chuckle, and Margaery smiled at him before winking at her.

"Why, Ser Jaime, do you not wish to spend more time with your beautiful betrothed?" She asked, and immediately, Ashara's face inflamed with blush as Jaime chuckled. A strong arm wound around her waist and quickly, Ashara's gaze lowered to the tile ground underneath their feet, lest everyone see the blush that continued to bloom out across her cheeks as he pulled her into his side. It was a movement she did not try to stop and instead, moved closer to him herself.

"Believe me, Margaery, I would wish nothing more but to spend more time with Ashara, getting to know her before our wedding. However, I also know how busy the three of you will be these next few days, and I suppose I will simply have to find her when we both have free time." He spoke, and Margaery's smile softened at the way his eyes continued to linger on her friend as she turned her eyes onto them, as well as Ashara's continued blushing underneath his gazes like a young maiden. It was so completely unlike her, and if Margaery was being honest, the way this man made her friend act was quite endearing.

"Grandmother is waiting in the pavilion, Ash. You know how she detests being kept waiting." She reminded her, her voice gentle, and Ashara nodded in agreement as she turned to face Jaime. He faced her evenly, and once again, she found his gaze so beautiful that she had hard time meeting it for a moment. She also had a hard time thinking of what to say to him, however, he beat her to it. After releasing her and stepping back, he took up her hand and bowed over it, where he then brushed his lips across the smooth skin of the back.

"Until next time, Ash?"

Ashara smiled and nodded and he clasped her hand for a moment, that same smile remaining on his face, before letting it go and moving off. Both women watched him go for a moment before Ashara felt a slim arm snaking through her own. Looking to her right, she immediately took notice of Margaery's all-knowing smile as she gently steered her friend in the direction of where her grandmother was sitting with another young woman.

"So . . . you seemed particularly pleased with your future husband!" Margaery spoke, that same smile remaining on her face, and Ashara returned her friend's smile with one of her own before nodding.

"Yes, I am. Quite pleased, actually. He's different than I thought he would be; I was quite taken aback for a moment. Now what about you, Margaery? Is Joffrey as every inch the Renaissance man that Renly was?" She asked, and suddenly, Margaery's expression fell. For a brief moment, Ashara saw the vulnerable young woman trapped underneath that she had known since they were children. However, as fast as it appeared, the look disappeared, and another confidant smile was back in its place. Margaery Tyrell was once against the prodigal protégée of her grandmother, Olenna.

Margaery glanced at her and gave a shrug – nonchalant and light – the shrug of a young woman who was on top of the world and couldn't be happier. Ashara knew how she really felt inside, though. She had known her friend much too long, not to.

"Let us talk of Joffrey in a moment, my friend. But for now, please, tell me, how is your brother? I hear Theonax is in . . . Dorne?" She asked, her brows furrowing slightly in interest, and Ashara nodded.

"He was sent as the replacement head of Princess Myrcella's bodyguard by Tywin Lannister about half a year ago. In the meantime, father has been pressing Doran Martell for a marriage contract with his daughter, Arianne. From what Theonax tells me, though, it is . . . _lagging_. And that father is getting impatient." She spoke, and Margaery nodded.

"I can only imagine. Doran isn't exactly known for his readiness to see his daughter married and your father can be known as a bit of the impatient type. Is he coming to the weddings, do you know?" Ashara gave a slight shrug.

"I . . . suppose he will. Knowing him, he'll try, at the very least." Margaery nodded as they turned the corner and finally entered the shadowed space of the pavilion Olenna and the young woman had been sitting under. The young woman looked very much afraid – like she was terrified she would be caught doing something that would get her in trouble. Olenna, however, who had been gazing at the woman with a look of vague interest, brightened considerably when her granddaughter and her friend made themselves known. Olenna smiled kindly when she set eyes on Ashara, and got to her feet, where she held out her arms to her.

"Ash, there you are! So happy you could make it, dear!" She spoke, and Ashara smiled and nodded as she allowed the old woman to embrace her. When they broke apart, Ashara gave a respectful incline of her head before taking a seat in the chair beside the clearly nervous young woman. Margaery took the seat next to her grandmother, looking as demure and collected as always. "So tell me Ashara, how has your family of late?" Olenna asked, and Ashara nodded.

"Quite well. No doubt you are already aware that Theonax is in Dorne?" Olenna nodded.

"Yes, Willas told me. Before, of course, he went off on how amazing Dornish horses are, apparently . . ." She spoke before trailing off and shaking her head with a heaved sigh. Despite her apparent disinterest in her grandson's monologue on Dornish horses, there was nevertheless a soft look on her face as she referenced the heir to the Tyrell name. While it was common knowledge that she thought her son a dolt, Olenna did not also hide the fact that she held a very high opinion of her grandson, considering him to be a much more capable ruler.

"And what of you, dear? Are you quite happy with your new betrothal?" She asked, and Ashara hesitated for a moment, knowing that Olenna's light, friendly tone now could turn into a sharp tongue and enter the conversation at a moment's notice. A comforting look from Margaery, however, prodded Ashara into telling the truth. She gave a nod.

"Yes. Yes, I-I quite am, Lady Olenna." Olenna nodded, her expression softening again.

"He is quite different than what he used to be, is he not?" Ashara nodded.

"Yes. He is quite changed. I couldn't be happier with my lot."

Olenna nodded again while gesturing to the young woman sitting beside her. She offered her a kind smile before introducing her: "Ashara, this is Sansa Stark and she shall be joining us this afternoon. Sansa, this is Ashara Tytos. Ashara here, is marrying Ser Jaime after Margaery and Joffrey's wedding."

Sansa gave a nod and avoided her gaze as Ashara turned a surprised look onto the young woman. This is not how she expected Sansa to look like. This woman didn't look a Stark. Quite the contrary, Sansa resembled her mother's Tully roots much more than she did her father's darkly handsome Stark looks. And she looked so _nervous_! Why did she look like she was constantly having to walk on eggshells while simultaneously having to look constantly over her shoulder?

"Sansa here, used to be betrothed to Joffrey. Did you know that, dear?" Olenna spoke, directing her question to Ashara, and immediately, Margaery sent her grandmother a warning look as Ashara gave a nod of her head. Of course she had known. The entirety of Westeros had known about the potential marriage between Eddard Stark's oldest daughter and the heir to the Kingdom.

"Grandmother, _please_!"

Olenna rolled her eyes as gestured to the immensely obese fool of hers that stood a little ways off from them. "Butterbumps, would you do a daft old woman a favor and sing that darling little song you sang the other day? In fact, sing it _loud_ – I wish for the whole of the gardens to hear!" Butterbumps nodded and after going off a ways, began - in an extremely loud, exceedingly off-tune voice - singing _The Bear and the Maiden Fair_. Olenna gave a smug smile of contentment while Margaery shared an indulgent look with Ashara. Sansa, however, looked positively stricken as Olenna glanced at her granddaughter. "There now, are you content, dear? Now those _dratted_ little birds flitting about, won't hear a thing we say!" She spoke, and Margaery nodded as she leaned forward to pick up her goblet of wine. Ashara did the same as Olenna then turned her attention onto Sansa.

"I suppose you're wondering why you are here, dear Sansa. After all, a majority of this luncheon will be nothing more but the three of us discussing wedding preparations and which fabrics will go with which family jewels!" She gave her a small smile and a shake of her head. "Something, you will no doubt, _not _be able to help us with."

Sansa gave a small, furtive nod, and Olenna shared a gaze with Margaery before turning one onto Ashara. Olenna's lips thinned as she turned to Ashara again. "Ash, dear, Jaime Lannister is not you're first betrothed, is he not?"

Ashara sat there for a moment, her goblet of wine inching from her lips, wondering why in the name of R'hllor Olenna would even bring this up. Then, she cast a casual glance at Sansa and understood why. She understood _exactly_ why. It wasn't nervousness that was steeping Sansa into silence – it was _shock_. _Grief_. And then it dawned on Sansa that she most probably _had _heard of the Red Wedding, and suddenly, her heart went out to the younger girl. She glanced at Olenna and Margaery before gently setting down her goblet of wine and shifted in her seat to face Sansa. She turned her head to face her, as well, a look of barely disguised wariness on her face. Despite her Tully roots, she _was _very pretty but did not possess the confidence that would have made her truly beautiful. She suspected that once she might – even in the naïve abundance that came in the young – and wondered if that was something that Joffrey had robbed from her.

She snuck a glance at Margaery, praying to R'hllor that he wouldn't ever be able to take away that confidence from her friend.

Finally, she returned back to Sansa and exhaled before speaking. "Before I was betrothed to Jaime, I was betrothed to Lucas Blackwood, Lady Sansa," She spoke, and Sansa continued to gaze at her, face deadpan but her eyes very much alive. Was it possible that her time in King's Landing had taught Sansa the talent of disassociation? It seemed very likely. She continued on, nonetheless: "Lucas . . . Lucas _died _at the Red Wedding along with his father. And . . . and your brother and your mother and your sister-in-law."

There was a flicker of recognition in Sansa's eyes and when she finally spoke, her voice was miserable and quiet, almost like a child constantly on the verge of tears. "How did he die?"

Ashara hesitated at this and glanced at the two other women briefly before finally answering. "He was . . . him and his father both were down on the field outside of the Twins. They didn't . . ." Ashara swallowed hard, finding it harder to talk about Lucas much more than she thought it would be. There was a glitter in Sansa's eyes that Ashara couldn't rightly place as she continued onwards: "They didn't _die _alongside Robb, but they _did _die. The Frey's, they got them all drunk – so drunk they couldn't react – and tied their weapons into their scabbards – a condition from Lord Frey," She shook her head. "It was a bloodbath – a massacre! – from what we were told. It wasn't a few months later after news of his death, that I was betrothed to Jaime."

"It's hard to talk about, isn't it?" Sansa spoke up, her voice still quiet but a little stronger than it had been. Ashara glanced at her before swallowing hard and nodding.

"Yes, Lady Sansa, it is."

Sansa nodded. "I'm sorry for your loss, Lady Ashara. I can tell you felt something for him."

She had. She would be lying if she said she hadn't. Her and Lucas Blackwood had been betrothed since they were newly adolescents, almost as soon as her betrothal between her and Garlas, Margaery's older brother, fell through. They had known each other well – their friendship deep, their feelings for the others deepening. He had been handsome, Lucas . . . handsome and brave and kind . . .

She noticed the look of sympathy echoing on Margaery's face, but ignored it. Instead, she gave a nod. "I . . . I did. But I cannot dwell on him, anymore. I am content with Jaime. I think I can be happy with Jaime."

Sansa nodded, that twinkle in her eyes gone. "That's what I said about Joffrey," She spoke, her voice much, much harder now. _Alarmingly _hard. "And look what happened to me. They are _Lannisters_, Lady Ashara. No matter how much you want to, you _cannot _trust them. Don't for one moment think you can."

* * *

"Now, see, this _is_ a sad picture! The great and terrible Theonax Tytos, standing outside in the Water Gardens all by his lonesome. Tell me, my friend, why are you out here alone? Shouldn't you be deep inside my beautiful niece right about now?"

Theonax couldn't help but grin at Oberyn Martells voice breaking through his thoughts, and spared him a glance as he finally neared him. Cup of wine in his hand, the older man moved to lean on the same low marble wall that Theonax was, and together, they gazed out at the beautiful expanse of the Water Gardens as Theonax spoke: "I _was_, three times this morning. Give me a moment to myself before I go do it again; you know how it is." He murmured as he brought the cup of wine to his lips. Oberyn chuckled as he did the same, casting his eyes out over the gently rippling water spread out before them.

"Why do I get the hint that there is something else on your mind that is _not _Arianne's scented thighs?"

"Because there is."

"Care to do any sharing?"

Theonax stayed silent for a moment before gazing down at the deep red liquid that sloshed gently around the golden cup in his hands. He glanced at Oberyn and upon seeing that he was deriving his full and undivided attention from him, heaved a sigh and stood up straight, abandoning his cup of wine on the wall beside him. "My sister is marrying Jaime Lannister -"

Oberyn grinned and chuckled. "Oh, I know. Lucky man, he."

Theonax shot him a halfway mean look that Oberyn couldn't help but grin at over the rim of his cup. He shook his head. "Don't give me that look, my friend! Have you _seen _your sister? Of course you have, what am I talking about – you grew up with the delectable woman!" He shook his head. "Beauty is in your family, my friend – you and your sister are testaments to that."

"Are you done?"

Oberyn gave a laugh. "No, not nearly! But, alas, do go on. I'll keep the lewd thoughts to myself for once."

Theonax couldn't help but break out into a grin, as well, as he nodded. "Good. 'Cause I _really _have no interest in knowing what sexual positions you'd twist my sister into if you had the chance."

"You think she'd go for me? I mean, I know I'm not some tall, blonde God who bathes in gold, but I _do _like to think I am rather handsome. What do you think?" He proceeded to tilt his head this way and that, a look of faux-seriousness on his face, and Theonax couldn't help but grin and laugh.

"I think you're _insane_!" He answered: "If you think my sister would ever go for you. Tall, blonde and gorgeous is, unfortunately, Ash's type, which explains both Lucas, Garlas _and _Jaime," He gave a shrug as he took another sip of his wine. "But if you're up for the challenge, then go ahead, I suppose. Just don't let me hear about it in the morning. After all, her future husband _is_ a Lannister. I think with you, that'd certainly give you some good revenge points."

Oberyn chuckled and nodded. "You're right, it would. And just think, my friend, of what a _beautiful_ Sand Snake we'd make -!"

"Can we get back on the topic we first arrived at, please? I don't relish the thought of my sister ever breeding with you!"

Oberyn erupted into full-bellied laughter before nodding and slapping Theonax on the back. Theonax sighed and shook his head. "Anyway, Ash is marrying Jaime Lannister – a wedding that will take place in mere _days_, whereas Arianne and I have been fighting for ours for months now. We're getting impatient and so is my father. If it drags out too much farther then father very well might recall me back to Etna or wherever the hell he is, and marry me off to a Lannister, as well, or even – R'hllor forbid! – a damn Frey!" He shook his head as he drained his wine cup. Oberyn smiled and shook his head.

"I've heard Kevan Lannister has a daughter – Janei, is her name? Anyway, you might have to wait a few years before you could bed her and she _is _fair. However, unlike your sister, 'fair' is not your type, my friend. And as for the Freys, well . . . I tend to not like to talk of trash in polite conversation. Talking about the Lannister's is more than enough. Even thinking of your sister about to become one, makes me want to drink myself into a hole!"

Theonax shook his head, only halfway hearing Oberyn's words. "Arianne's even contemplated on getting pregnant, just to see if it speeds things along."

Oberyn shook his head. "Now, what makes you think that Arianne getting with child is going to hold the same clout as it would in the other cities? I mean," He gave a shrug and gave a bark of laughter. "Look at how many bastards I've fathered over the years. People with the last name of 'Sand' in Dorne, is as numerous as the sand beneath our feet! It won't work like you think it will. At most, you'll get a slap on the wrist from Doran and your marriage will drag along even _slower _than it already is!"

"Then what do we do?"

Oberyn gave a shrug as he finally managed to empty his cup of wine. "My advice?" Theonax nodded, and Oberyn gazed down into his now empty wine cup for a moment before turning his eyes onto him. "If I were you - _so _in love with a woman that I wanted to possess her body and soul in only the way a marriage can - I would marry her anyway – elope. In secret. Your father certainly won't complain afterwards, and if its legitimate _and _you consummate it, there would be nothing my brother could do about it," Oberyn's face scrunched up then. "Well . . . I guess he could try to kill you but you seem like the type who has dealt with that kind of opposition before, so it'll be a pinch, eh?"

Theonax stood there and thought for a moment. He'd be lying if the thought hadn't occurred to him. It was a thought that seemed particularly beautiful to him. He hadn't brought it up to Arianne yet, but he had a feeling he would soon. He'd sleep on it.

And apparently, Oberyn had the same thought. "Sleep on it, my friend. If it still seems like a good idea tomorrow, then bring it up to Arianne. Now," He placed his cup down on the low marble wall and turned to him again. "Are you coming to King's Landing for the wedding that will cause me to shed a thousand tears?"

Theonax gave a shrug. "Father didn't tell me I needed to."

"You know your sister would want you there."

Theonax stayed silent at that, knowing he was correct. Ashara _would _want him there at her wedding. In fact, she mentioned his appearance in her letter to him. He needed to go. He hadn't seen Ash in forever; he missed her. He needed to go.

After a moment, he turned his gaze onto Oberyn, who smiled, already knowing what he was going to say. "Can I ride with you?" He asked, and Oberyn nodded.

"Of course you can, my friend. I relish your company. Although . . ." He trailed off and gave a small shrug. "We _might_ be riding with one other person, too . . ."


	5. Chapter 5

**Seriously, I'm gonna have to start labeling the amount of anonymous 'Guest' reviews I get, with a number. So, with that being said, Guests #1 and #3, thank you so much for your kind reviews, they were amazing and please, keep it up! As for Guest #2, I love how you left your review as "anonymous" so I couldn't go on your profile and read all your shitty little stories because, quite obviously, I'm a horrible writer (didn't need to be said; I read in-between the lines) whose writing 'needs some work'. Honestly, I don't mean to sound full of myself, but if you say _my _writing needs some works, then I'd hate to see who you qualify as a _good _writer. Despite that, though, thanks for making me laugh. I needed it :)**

**And last but not least, ujemaima: Thanks for your review, sweets, it was amazing! Thanks for loving my OC's so much, and yes, I do plan on these two weddings being quite interesting, especially considering Theonax is going to be there and everything he's in, is bound to be interesting in some form or fashion :)**

**I also realize that the timeline between Ashara and Theonax's POVs are pretty skewed, as well, and there's a reason for that. Theonax's POVs actually take place a few days _before _Ashara's. Next chapter is when their POVs will finally merge together and from then on out, they'll be on the same page. Just thought I'd let you guys know :)**

**Anyway, with that being said, reviews are my own form of Heisenberg crack. So please, everyone, fund my addiction ;)**

**Luv ya bunches!**

**\- Nagiana**

* * *

"You give loyalty, you'll get it back. You give love, you'll get it back."

\- Tommy Lasorda

* * *

"The King and Queen Regent wish to meet with you before dinner in the King's chambers."

Ashara's brows furrowed upon her mother's words spoken in a puckered tone, and she turned to gaze at her. A trill of unease moved quickly up and down her spine at her mother's words. The two of them had been busy unloading her things from the trunks they had brought with them from Etna, considering they hadn't had the time the previous day when they first arrived, when Lissianna spoke. The rooms they were in were grand and the balcony jutting off from the bedroom, opened up onto a magnificent view of the bay. The deep blue waters shimmered in the sunlight like a sea of sapphires, and gulls called as they coasted through the gentle warm breezes. The smell of the sea washed into the rooms on breezes also tinged with the flowery smells of the gardens, and which created an entirely unique blending of scents that called to her in an odd way that the smells of Etna did not.

They were the rooms she would share with Jaime upon their marriage. Briefly, her eyes darted to the bedroom, hanging with scented, gauzy silks, and while her eyes were pinned on this scene, was when she spoke:

"Why?"

Lissianna rolled her eyes as she picked up one of her daughter's gowns out of the trunk and began to fold it. "Why else? You're marrying the Queen's brother. She simply wants to see who her new competition is."

Ashara's movements slowed as she finished stacking her books onto her desk. All while growing up, her mother had never once tried to hide her dislike of the Lannister Queen, and as far as she knew, never had Cersei once tried to hide her dislike of her mother. So, Lissianna's tone when it came to the Queen Cersei, did not surprise her in the least, although they did peak her interest.

"New competition?"

Lissianna smirked. "What? You seriously thought all the rumors were false? Please, dear, don't be foolish, for I did not give birth to a fool. Of course they are true!"

Ashara remained silent as she stood there, feeling a slight roiling of disgust in and anxiousness her stomach as she did so. The rumors were true – of _course_ they were! How could they not be? She shouldn't waste any time, foolishly thinking they weren't. Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen were the incestuous love children of Cersei and Jaime. The man she was marrying had successfully maintained an incestuous love affair with his sister since R'hllor only knew how long . . . she should start getting used to the whispers and the looks that she would inevitably get because people would go on living thinking that the affair had continued, despite their very public marriage.

Would it continue? Or would Jaime end it upon their marriage being finalized? She wanted to ask him but didn't know how to go about it. Or even if she should just shut her eyes and ears and live in ignorance, for that matter.

Her mother spoke again, dragging her back down into realty. "And Joffrey wants to meet you because, well . . ." She pursed her lips and moved to hug the folded gown to her chest. She heaved a sigh and turned her eyes onto Ashara, where they glittered in the bright sunlight streaming in through the open windows behind her. "You're a beautiful woman and Joffrey thinks he has sway with every beautiful woman who steps into King's Landing. You know what he said to Sansa Stark, don't you?"

Ashara perked up at this. Ever since she had met with Margaery and Olenna and the young girl a few hours earlier, she was positively ravenous for information on the only Stark still known with a surety, to be alive. Unfortunately, considering she had only just arrived in King's Landing, her bank of information was rather empty on the subject. A twisted part of her became overjoyed at her mother joining in on gossip for once - a topic she was normally conspicuously absent on.

"What did he say?"

"You know how she was married off to the Imp right – Tyrion Lannister - Jaime and Cersei's younger brother?" Ashara nodded even though she hadn't known that (Sansa and Tyrion? _Really_?), and Lissianna gave a nod as she placed the gown she had been holding in a new trunk before reaching into the old one for another to fold and place away. "Anyway, supposedly, Joffrey promised her the night of her wedding that for her not to worry about getting pregnant with Tyrion's children – that he would still come to her bed, regardless if he was married to Margaery or not - that he was intent on still foisting bastards off her."

Ashara shook her head. "Poor Margaery . . ."

Lissianna gave a snort of laughter. "Poor _Margaery_? Ash, please – you seriously think such information would hurt her! I guarantee you that she already has contingencies planned for anything that Joffrey could ever throw at her. She isn't stupid and neither is Olenna. _Sansa_, on the other hand . . ." She trailed off and shook her head as she clicked her tongue. She snapped out the fresh gown in her hands before folding it. "Sansa is the one you should really feel sorry for. Poor girl. Not exactly known for her smarts and stuck in a city where brains and contacts are needed in equal measure to survive. I'm surprised she's made it this far, to tell you the truth."

"She has tried her best to become invisible." Ashara spoke, almost absentmindedly, and Lissianna glanced at her.

"I don't call being married off to the Imp because she stupidly went off babbling to a drunken fool that Olenna was trying to marry her off to Willas, a successful attempt at becoming invisible." She smirked, and Ashara gave a shrug.

"She walks around like the floor is made of eggshells. She acts like her life depends on her having to look over her shoulder every five or ten minutes, too. If this is what King's Landing does to people, mother, then I cannot wait till we can leave for Casterly Rock."

Lissianna smiled. "You, my darling, are nothing like Sansa. You are so much smarter than she is, you have family and contacts, and your husband is so beloved by his father, that Tywin thinks he hung the stars and the moon to match. Not-to-mention, your brother did not start a war that split the Kingdom in two and has successfully made her Public Enemy Number One ever since! Although . . . ." She trailed off and shrugged. "Theonax _has _come close a couple of times," Lissianna shook her head and sent her a look, then, a small smile appearing on her face. "I wouldn't worry, dear. You'll also have to wait until Tywin dies before you can leave for Casterly Rock, though, I'm afraid. And, knowing Tywin, that'll take decades. The man will keep living just for spite."

Ashara smiled and gave a laugh. It figured that her mother would be so fearless as to talk about Tywin Lannister dying in the middle of the Red Keep, Maegor's Holdfast in particular. She spoke the thought out loud, which resulted in a laugh from her. "Please, Ash! With how close Typhon is to him, he'd probably think I was joking!" She spoke as she withdrew a third dress and moved over to her. "Here, wear this one . . ."

It was a dress of dark purple slashed with silver and white lace. It was definitely one of her most expensive ones, and she shot a questioning glance at her mother. Lissianna smiled. "Jaime is escorting you to the King and Queen Regent. I don't know why, but he is; probably Cersei's own little grand idea of how to make things more awkward for everyone involved. Either way, though, you cannot walk in that room looking nothing but your best, I forbid it. Now come on – let's get you dressed."

Ashara sighed as she turned around and allowed her mother to undo her laces. "Any advice?" She asked, and Lissianna was silent for a moment before speaking.

"Cersei is going to look at you as competition no matter what you do or what you look like. You can guarantee the fact that she already despises you and there is nothing you can do to change that fact. We already have taste testers that are going to discreetly test your food before being delivered to you, as well as a Lady that you will meet tonight who will not only be your handmaiden, but your taste tester outside of main meals," The news struck Ashara like a blow to the chest, and her eyes widened in shock. The dress she had been wearing, fell to the ground and pooled around her ankles. She stepped out of it and her mother helped pull the new dress over her head before Lissianna started doing up the laces. Her voice continuing onwards, kept Ashara silent despite her overwhelming need to ask if she was serious about the taste testers. "So, my advice for Cersei, is to tell her what she wants to hear, regardless if it's truth or not. As for Joffrey . . ." She trailed off for a moment in thought. "Ignore him. If Jaime is already as fond of you as you say he is, then he will not let Joffrey touch you, let alone hurt you in any way. Tywin also has assured Typhon that he will not touch you, as well. This is just a mere . . . _formality_, I supposed you could say."

That still did not make her feel any better about the whole thing.

When they were done, Ashara stood there, still feeling a little shell-shocked as her mother moved to pick out her jewelry. When Lissianna returned to her, she saw the uneasy look on her daughter's face and her own expression softened. Ashara shook her head. "What have you dragged me into mother?" She asked, her voice shaking, and Lissianna sighed as she gently turned her around to clasp the necklace she had chosen, around her neck.

"A better life. It might not seem it now, but I _promise you_, Ash, that when Tywin Lannister dies and Jaime inherits the House seat, _you will_ be one of the most important, influential women in Westeros. You will be the richest, the most powerful . . . you'll have a much better life than Satine and Aly will ever have, I can promise you that!"

"Is it worth tempting death in the meantime, though?" She asked, and Lissianna chuckled as she finished clasping her necklace and moved on to the bracelet.

"All the good things in life are, Ash."

* * *

"You have every right to be nervous, Ash. I'm nervous, too, you know."

Ashara swallowed hard and glanced at Jaime as they moved swiftly down the corridor to the King's chambers from her own. Of course he had the right to be nervous – his former lover was officially meeting the woman he would be marrying. So yeah, he had every right to be as nervous as she was feeling at that moment. Her palms were sweaty, her heart beat like a mummer's drum in her chest . . . and Jaime's presence beside her did not help matters in the least, and for obvious reasons. He glanced at her as they walked and cleared his throat before speaking again: "You look beautiful."

"Just another thing that Cersei will look at as a direct confrontation, right?" She answered without thinking, and saw Jaime tense beside her.

"I won't let her hurt you, Ash. I won't let either of them hurt you."

Ashara gave a bark of a laugh, speaking now more out of fear than a level-head like she knew she should – like her mother would have wanted her to. "Right. Good. But I still need taste testers, right, just in case they decide to poison my lemon cakes!"

Jaime let out a nervous little laugh at her words. "Joffrey . . . prefers a little bit more of a hands on approach than his mother, I'm afraid . . ."

Ashara came to a dead stop at those words, and wheeled around to face him. He stopped and moved to face her, as well. Nervously, their eyes met in the surprisingly empty corridor, and it was then that she spoke, determined to keep her voice low and level. "Are you willing to stand here and _promise me_ that things are done between you two?"

Jaime furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and let out a laugh. "What are you talking about, Ashara?"

Ashara pursed her lips and closed her eyes. "_Don't _think me stupid, Jaime, and _please _don't lie to me - my mother did not give birth to a fool with no ears! If things are done between you two, then I can stick with this however long I need to before she gets it through her head that nothing more will happen between you two. It will also make it easier to deal with the inevitable rumors that will surely pop up every now and then. I'll also know your promise of loyalty in the Gardens, was genuine, and I'll never question you again. However, if things _are _continuing between you, then please, let me know now so that I can steel myself for further rumors and gossip, and ready myself for threats on my life however long things between you two continue," She looked away then, unable to meet his eyes and feeling a sinking in her chest as she spoke her next words: "And please, tell me, so that I can seek comfort elsewhere. Because I will not, Jaime Lannister, be getting it from you if you tell me you are still seeing her."

Jaime remained silent for a little while after her words and his gentle voice was what finally made her open her eyes. His gaze was soft as he slowly closed the distance between them and took her hand up in his. His palm was warm and comforting in hers and his eyes locking unwaveringly with hers, was when he spoke: "I promise you that things have ended between us, Ash, for reasons I do not wish to get into quite yet. But do know that things _have_ ended and they will never be taken up again. I promise you with all my heart, Ashara Tytos, that _I will remain loyal _to you," He chuckled then and shook his head. "There will be no seeking comfort elsewhere in this marriage, Ash. I will be all the comfort you will ever need."

She gave him a small smile and a nod that was accompanied by her squeezing his hand. He returned the squeeze along with a smile as he dropped her hand and moved to brush away the lone tear that had decided to fall down her cheek. "Now, come. Let's go get this over with."

* * *

Theonax would be lying if he said he wasn't shocked that Doran was allowing Arianne to accompany them to King's Landing for the weddings. In fact, he was shocked, suspicious, cautious and overjoyed, all rolled up into one convenient package. With Doran, who was infamous for keeping his daughter on a tight leash, traveling wise, suddenly allowing her to accompany her betrothed and her uncle to King's Landing for two weddings, could not help but speak to the paranoid part of him. He couldn't help but wonder what the old man was planning by allowing her to go with them.

"One more, love."

Theonax turned around and watched as the woman in question moved to join him, a servant walking behind her with a trunk in tow. He smiled and gave a laugh as he gestured to the baggage cart set up behind the carriage he was standing beside. "Packing a little heavy, love?" He asked as the servant inclined his head and moved towards the cart. Arianne gave a shrug as Theonax turned to face her. "And this doesn't strike you as odd that your father is allowing you to come with us? After all, he has been notoriously tight with you going anywhere, before." He asked, and she blinked at him in surprise for a moment, almost as if she was surprised he would even say such a thing to her.

"Of course I am! I haven't grown up with him for twenty-three years and _not _ learn to realize when he is planning something."

"So he _is _planning something?" She nodded.

"Most definitely. Why else would he want the both of us out of Dorne?"

Theonax gave a silent nod as he stood there, eyes squinting against the harsh glare of the Dornish sun for a moment. He noticed Quentyn, Arianne's younger brother, lingering a little ways away. He caught Theonax's eye and nodded to him. Quite clearly, he was wanting to talk to him, and Theonax pursed his lips at the prospect. Smiling, he wrapped an arm around her waist, where he pulled her against him and pressed a loving kiss to her temple. "Go check on Oberyn and Ellaria for me, will you? Make sure everything's on schedule?"

Arianne quirked an eyebrow at him in amusement before nodding and turning to go find wherever it was that the two people had gotten off to. When she was sufficiently out of hearing, he nodded Quentyn over and the boy came rather quickly. He glanced at him as he began moving off towards his warhorse, so he could check to make sure his tack was on correctly. "What is it?"

"Is that any way you talk to a Prince?"

Theonax smiled at the insulted tone to the young man's voice. "It's the way I talk to everybody; don't take it personally. You put your breeches on one leg at a time every morning too, don't you?" Quentyn stayed silent at this and Theonax took advantage of his silence to keep on talking. "I presume this is about me and Arianne or _something _to do with me and Arianne, correct? After all, why would you ever want to speak to me?" Quentyn stayed silent at this, too, but underneath the silence, Theonax could tell that he had successfully hit the mark. He heaved a weary, borderline irritated sigh. He had been growing weary of Quentyn's looks and gazes he would send the two of them when he didn't think Theonax noticed. It was about time he was making his views known, although, Theonax wondered why it was at _this _time and not any other. "I love your sister, Quentyn. Shouldn't that be enough for you? After all, I don't particularly care for the man my sister is going to be marrying, but apparently, he already makes her happy, so . . . that's enough for me."

Quentyn gave a shrug that Theonax knew he tried to make appear nonchalant but which was anything but. "That might be enough for you, but that's not enough for your father, is it, Theonax? _Your_ father couldn't care less if you loved Arianne. _Your_ father just wants the Dornish throne to be in Tytos hands, for however long that will be, don't he?"

Theonax grinned as he finished adjusting his horse's bridle and turned to face him. His hands were on his lean hips, inches away from the scabbard of his sword, and he saw Quentyn's eyes dart down to the longsword strapped to his waist before returning to his eyes. The sight made Theonax's grin grow a little bit bigger – almost wolfish in intensity. It was the grin that had earned him the nickname, 'The Eagle of Tytos', as well as the rumors of him being bloodthirsty and cutthroat in battle or any type of skirmish. If he gave you that grin, it meant you better watch where you were walking for the remainder of the conversation.

"Oh, now aren't you just the fearsome little Prince who thinks the throne should be his just because he has a cock? And look at you, trying to cleverly disguise that desire under a false concern of your sister's virtue!" He winked at him. "Between you and me, lad, I'm absolutely _terrified_!" He chuckled as he took a step towards him, his boots clacking on the tiled floors, and leaned down so that he whisper in his ear. Quentyn stiffened at Theonax's close proximity but didn't allow it to show. He had discovered long ago, that when faced with a predator, it was often wise to show no fear. Theonax continued to grin.

So, the little Prince was more courageous than he had thought.

That courage would get him killed one day, mark his words.

"Tell you what, little Prince: when I'm fucking your sister on our wedding night and making her scream my name till she's hoarse - _all _I'll be thinking about is her new last name, the slew of Tytos children she will bear me, and the simple fact that _all _those children will be playing in the Water Gardens one day. The only difference between now and then, is that 'then', I'll _own _the Water Gardens!"

He stepped back then and moved to go, but took one last look at Quentyn's expressionless face made him pause. The grin disappeared from his face, only for a stony one to be adopted in its place. They stared at each other for a moment before Theonax eventually spoke: "If I were you . . . and I just had to listen to my sister's betrothed tell me that, I would have ripped out his fucking throat before he could make a move to step away."

Quentyn gave a shrug. "Do I look stupid to you?"

Theonax gave a small smile. "Not anymore. At least you know what battles you can and cannot win. If I were you, I would make sure to keep that skill honed, little Prince. You especially are going to need it in this world."

"Why's that?"

Theonax's smile turned up into another wolfish grin again. "Because if I were you, I never would have broached the subject with me in the first place."


	6. Chapter 6

**Oh, I absolutely love this chapter! It was so much fun writing it and I'm so happy how everything turned out, considering I originally sat down and had no idea how to start. I really, really couldn't be more content with it. There is, however, many nods towards the books in this chapter, so if you are confused, then feel free to look things up :)**

**As always, thank you, anonymous Guest #1 for reviewing your kind words. They are muchly appreciated and I do hope you continue :)**

**ujemaima: I want to thank you, personally, for giving me the whole idea of the first part of this chapter. I had come up with the Tytos standard of a golden eagle on a black banner in the beginning - I stated in a previous chapter, in fact - but it had not occurred to me what their motto would be until you brought it up. So, this chapter herein details the background of the Tytos family and I must say, I was _quite _happy with my creation. Hope you are just as happy, and once again, thank you for the inspiration. I hope you continue your reviewing :)**

**Remember: Read, review and enjoy! More reviews would very much be muchly appreciated!**

**\- Nagiana**

**PS: For those of you who are wondering, I have envisioned Theonax as being played by Ian Somerhalder and Ashara by Naomi Scott. **

* * *

"Blood relatives often have nothing to do with family, and similarly, family is about who you choose to make your life with."

\- Oliver Hudson

* * *

"So, Ashara of House Tytos. Banner, a golden eagle on a black background," Cersei Lannister gave a sticky sweet smile then as she reached forward and picked up her goblet of Arbor Red. Ashara sat there at the little table in the King's chambers beside Jaime, goblets of wine set before them along with platters of pastries, fruits, and cheeses and bread. Cersei sat across from them, a look of eternal distaste on her face that was interrupted only now and then by a smile determined to be more than what it really was. The King, golden hair shining in the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows, stood beside the opened archway of his balcony, seemingly already bored with the whole encounter.

Ashara nodded at Cersei's words and the older woman's smile remained, although her brows did furrow slightly. "But forgive me, sweet thing, for I have forgotten your family's motto. What is it, again?"

Ashara smiled, a sense of familial pride shooting throughout her when she answered the Queen. "We Do Not Fear."

A chilly silence pervaded the room then, and Ashara felt it keenly, as she always did when the Tytos motto was spoken aloud. While certain family mottoes like the Stark's "Winter is Coming" and the Greyjoy's "We Do Not Sow" were indeed chilling to hear, none accomplished the deed quite like Ashara thought her family's own motto did - a chill that only deepened when you knew the history of her family's House.

While some thought her family originated as horse breeders (which was only partially true; the mother of the progenitor of her house, _did _come from a family of horse breeders) her grandfather, said progenitor of the House, Lucien Tytos, was in actuality, a son of the Black Dragon, Daemon Blackfyre himself, by one of his favorite mistresses, Shira. During the Blackfyre Rebellion, Lucien's mother whisked him away back to her family in the Reach, where she kept him hidden, fearing the inevitable rooting out of all the Blackfyres – even bastard children - by the Targaryens. Lucien, showing promise at the sword from a young age, was fostered off to Lyonel Tyrell, who rewarded him with his own house after proving his loyalty and mettle. Thus, House Tytos was born, and with a fierce loyalty towards House Tyrell that lasted for centuries and well into the current age.

Since its creation, House Tytos, while not nearly as infamous as it was in the current age, was nonetheless famed for her bloodthirsty, inhuman-like warriors. With the fierce blood of the Black Dragon running through the veins of her sons, the motto: "We Do Not Fear" was born from the Tytos penchant to never desert or retreat from battle, baring proudly the very Spartan-esque view of coming back with your shield or on it. During King Robert's Rebellion, they fought fiercely on the side of the Targaryens alongside the Tyrells and the Martells, led by Ashara's father, Typhon, who fully cemented the ferocity of his House's warriors under his cunning leadership. It was during this war that Theonax was born behind the lines of a raging battle. It was rumored that he screamed so fiercely upon his birth, that the midwife thought him to be the personification of the Warrior himself, although Ashara didn't entirely believe this rumor. She thought it had most probably been created and spread by Theonax himself to give himself a more fearsome reputation during tourneys. She believed her mother, more, though, who told her that her brother had cried just like every baby did upon birth, but would _not _quieten, however, until he saw the family sword, Blackheart, hanging at his father's waist and reached out to it. She went on to say that Typhon had been so overjoyed at his son's reaction, that he was taken from her and immediately paraded through the camp, celebrating the birth of the great-grandson of Daemon Blackfyre and the heir to the Tytos House seat.

When the Tyrells inevitably bent the knee to Robert, so too did her family, and were subsequently forgiven. Upon this forgiveness (and Robert's love of the Tytos soldiers' ferocity, as well as her own father's silver-tongue) her family only grew and grew in infamy and prestige until they had reached the level they were at, at that moment. It was ironic, Ashara thought, that her family was considered nothing more but House Tyrell's own personal house of horse breeders when Lucien's son, the grandson of Daemon Blackfyre, was the head of the House, but now, almost no one knew how truly great their house's history was, and they were considered forces to be reckoned with.

And from the look on Cersei's face, the Queen Regent was indeed up-to-date on the history of Ashara's House.

Joffrey, who until then, had been content to ignore their awkward, half-assed conversations, wheeled around to face her upon the invocation of her family's motto, with an almost excited look on his face. Ashara swallowed hard at the sudden attention of the King, and felt Jaime take her hand underneath the table, where their fingers quickly entwined.

"Is it true, then? Does your family really feel no fear?" He asked, a small smile on his face, and despite her family's words, Ashara was struck by a very real fear at that moment: the fear of the sadistic glint that echoed supremely in the young King's eyes. She tried her best, though, to put on a smile.

"I wouldn't say we didn't feel fear, period, your majesty, but our family does have a rather illustrious history that -"

Joffrey rolled his eyes and waved his hand impatiently through the air, successfully interrupting her mid-sentence. "I don't care for your family's stupid history! What I asked was, if the motto was true!"

A scarlet tinge flooded across her cheeks then, and Cersei's smile was slight and much smugger on her face. Placing a hand on her son's arm, she gazed up at him adoringly and for a moment, Ashara wondered at how even a mother could love such a cruel, monstrous son. "Come, my heart, take a seat!" She spoke, and Joffrey glanced down at her before doing as he was told. Jaime, meanwhile, had released a snort of laughter.

"Forgive me, my King, but I wouldn't call the history of a house that can trace its lineage all the way directly back to Daemon Blackfyre – one of the greatest warriors Westeros has ever known - the bastard son of Daena Targaryen and Aegon IV, and whose own line of sons waged _five_ rebellions against the Targaryens, 'stupid'!"

Joffrey's eyes widened at that, and they flew onto Ashara. She glanced at Jaime before nodding. "It's true. The blood that runs through my veins, is Targaryen blood. A bastard branch of the Targaryens two times over, but still Targaryen."

Joffrey shook his head wonderingly, and when he spoke, she was surprised he had all but ignored her words of Targaryen blood running through her veins, however much diluted it was. "I've heard stories of your house . . . of the amount of fierce warriors they have in their armies. I've heard of your father – on how half the battles Mace Tyrell won, could be credited to Typhon Tytos' cunning at the war table. And your _brother_ – Theonax, is his name?" Ashara nodded, and Joffrey grinned. "I've heard he drinks the blood of his enemies and orders their hearts for his supper. Then he fucks in their blood. Is it true?"

Ashara tried hard to keep the look of disgust she was feeling, from appearing on her face. She didn't know who those rumors could be attributed to, but they were most decidedly _not _true! Theonax was ruthless and cutthroat in battle, yes, but did not possess one lick of cannibalistic tendencies. He wasn't _insane_!

And for some reason, the mere _thought _that her brother was one of the King's so-called bloody "Heroes", frightened her more than anything else in the entire world.

Not wanting to contradict Joffrey, though, she simply smiled, as prettily as she could, and spoke: "Well, I don't know for sure, your Majesty, but perhaps you could ask him yourself? He is supposed to be accompanying Oberyn and Arianne Martell to our weddings. Surely you could ask him sometime upon his arrival here?"

The look of stunned shock on Joffrey's face then, was almost comical. He sat back in his seat then, seemingly unable to get it through his head that he would be meeting one of his heroes soon. Smiling, both at the look of Joffrey and the frown on Cersei's face, Ashara reached forward for her goblet of wine. Jaime's eyes widened and his hand shot out, where it latched around her wrist in a firm, but gentle hold. Ashara's gasped and her eyes flew onto him, as did a wide-eyed look of surprise from Cersei. Glancing at his sister with an expression Ashara couldn't rightly place, his gaze softened when they fell onto her.

"Your father's orders are quite clear, darling. Please, allow me first."

Ashara was so hung up on the fact that he had called her "darling", that she almost forgot about the taste testers her mother had mentioned earlier, hired by her father and funded by his own paranoia for his daughter's safety. But surely, Cersei wouldn't be so stupid as to try to poison her at her own son's table?

Glancing at her, Ashara noticed the Queen Regent's arms were now crossed in front of her chest and the narrowed look she was sending her brother, was almost as cutting as daggars. Returning her eyes onto Jaime, she swallowed. "Are you sure?"

Jaime smiled, his gaze still soft, and nodded. "Quite. Actually, I insist."

Heaving a sigh, Ashara nodded and withdrew her hand when he released it. Shooting another look to his sister, he picked up the goblet and after swirling the dark red liquid inside it for a moment, brought it to his lips. Even Joffrey, who quite obviously had no idea what they were talking about, watched the scene with interest.

Taking the goblet away, he replaced it on the table and sat back. His fingers remained intertwined with hers on her thigh and they gave a comforting squeeze, one she was quick to return. They sat in a pregnant silence for a moment before it became clear that the wine was indeed, not poisoned. Cersei pinned him with a look. "There was no need for that, Jaime." She spoke, her voice coming out in a deathly quiet tone Ashara had heard only a few people use throughout her entire lifetime. Jaime returned her look with a steely one of his own, and gave a slow nod.

"_Yes_ . . . there was."

Jaime's words hung heavy in the air for a moment before there was a tentative knock on the door. It opened seconds later and one of the numerous Lannister pages that the royal family employed, stepped in. He gave a bow that was at direct odds with the irritated look that Joffrey was sending him.

"I-I'm sorry for interrupting, your Majesty, Queen Regent, but I've been sent by Lady Ashara's father, Lord Typhon. Her brother, Ser Theonax, has officially arrived with Prince Oberyn and Princess Arianne Martell. They are currently out in the gardens."

Ashara couldn't help the wide grin that split her features before glancing uncertainly at Jaime. Unable to keep a smile from his face, as well, he sent a glance to both Cersei and Joffrey. "Well then! If you would excuse us, your Majesty, we should go greet them before they think us rude." He spoke, and Cersei gave a jerky nod as Joffrey hoped to his feet.

"Lady Ashara!"

Jaime and Ashara both froze in the process of rising from their chairs, and met the King's gaze. He sent her a smile and an incline of his head. "It was very nice making your acquaintance. And please, let your brother know I would be very much interested in meeting him before the weddings."

Ashara could only give a nod and a shallow curtsy that Jaime added onto with a bow of his own, before they were both moving for the door. The page hurriedly bowed and jumped to open the door for them. Jaime stood aside and allowed her to leave first before quickly following her – the both of them thinking that they could not possibly leave that room any faster than they currently were.

The door closed behind them and immediately when they took off down the hall towards the gardens, Ashara whirled around on him. "You didn't have to do that." She spoke, and Jaime chuckled.

"You really think I would have allowed you to blindly take a sip of what could very well have been poison? Please, Ashara, I would think you were aware that I was fonder of you than that!" He shook his head. "And besides . . . what better message to send to my sister that we were done, than me willing to die for you?"

Ashara came to a stop then and Jaime continued on several more paces before he turned around and gave her a look of confusion. Swallowing hard, she slowly crossed the distance between them before looking up at him. "You would . . . say that again?"

Jaime smiled and moved to cross his arms in front of his chest. "Is it really worth being said again if you hadn't understood me the first time?"

Ashara was in no mood for his teasing but could nevertheless not begin to contain the smile that briefly spread across her face at his words. She shook her head, feeling suddenly much giddier than she had before. "I understood you fine, it's just that . . . I've never had a man who was not my brother, tell me he would be willing to die for me, before."

Jaime sent her an interested look. "Not even your father?"

Ashara thought for a moment. "Maybe my father . . . but I doubt it, even though I think sometimes that I am quite clearly his favorite daughter. His shows of affection to his children, has been treating us like he does his horses: with shows of mere affection. Even my brother, while intensely proud of his accomplishments, do not even begin to border on love. No, the only person my father genuinely _loves_, is my mother. And even then, I'm not certain if he would die for her."

Jaime continued to smile as he moved to fully close the distance between them. His hand spread across her cheek and she felt a curious warmth spear through her stomach at the touch. She felt her cheeks burn underneath his palm but the soft look in his green eyes, kept her from looking away and being as bashful as she wanted to at that moment. "Well, I can promise you, Ashara, that we won't be that way. I will love our children and I will love you. I might not love you now, granted – after all, we've only known each other for two days now - but I can say with some certainty, that I will in the future."

He kissed her then, with such sweetness, that Ashara's head spun, and for a moment, almost felt faint from it. But eventually, she moved to fist her hands in the warm tan of his jacket and pulled him closer to her. And for a moment – just a moment – she couldn't have been happier.

* * *

"_Theonax_!"

Ashara's voice split through the conversation Theonax had been having with their father, and he turned to face his sister immediately, causing their father to adopt something that best resembled a scowl. A broad grin spread across his face and he moved to meet his sister halfway, his arms opening to her as he went. Ashara launched herself into them and, laughing, he hugged her close as he spun her, causing her to let out a joyful laugh of her own. It was a terribly childish thing to do, but at that moment, Ashara was so happy that she didn't care.

"How are you, little bird?" He asked and she grinned and nodded. Blindly – almost as if she wasn't fully aware that was doing it - she reached a hand out behind her for him and, smiling, Jaime placed his hand in hers. He saw the slight suspicion and brotherly protection that appeared in Theonax's eyes at the sight of his sister reaching out for him, however, the look disappeared when he took in the look of utter joy on hers.

"Oh Theonax, I'm so happy! I didn't think I would be, but I am!" She spoke, unable to hide her excitement, and Theonax couldn't help but share her infectious grin.

"And I'm so happy for you, little bird! You should be happy – you deserve it! And lo, is this the man that has put such a bounce in your step and such a beautiful, blinding beam on your face?" He asked, and Ashara nodded as Jaime stepped up to face him. Theonax smiled and inclined his head as he stuck out his hand. "Jaime Lannister, I presume?"

Jaime nodded and clasped it, where the two men shook. "And you must be Theonax Tytos, the infamous Eagle. I must say, lad, your name precedes you."

Theonax chuckled as they dropped the handshake. "I suppose it is the family curse. Our names are doomed to precede us in the Tytos family." Jaime nodded.

"I know the feeling well, believe me. I know exactly how hard it is to escape a nickname."

"Although, forgive me, but 'Kingslayer' strikes me as quite a bit more derogatory than 'Eagle'."

Jaime smiled and nodded. "Perish the thought that it isn't! After all, what did Joffrey ask you this afternoon, darling?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing in amusement, and Ashara rolled her eyes.

"He asked if you drank the blood of your slain enemies and ordered their hearts for supper. Then he asked if you fucked in their blood."

Theonax released a full-bellied laugh at that. "Drank their blood and ate their hearts?" He turned to look over his shoulder then. "Love, I do think I've officially heard them all now!"

"Oh? And what was that, my heart?"

Ashara's eyes widened at the sight of the beautiful, voluptuous woman moving to join them, a serene smile on her face. Her eyes widened even further when she noticed the complete and utter look of adoration and love shining in her brother's eyes when they fell onto her and the equal look she gave him. He reached his hand out to her and she immediately took ahold of it, gold and amber bangled wrists tinkling merrily in the bright sunlight. These two were absolutely struck dumb with love for each other – absolutely mooning - and, quite suddenly, it occurred to her: _this _must be Arianne Martell! She was so beautiful!

"That, apparently, I drink and fuck in blood, and eat hearts."

Arianne laughed and rolled her eyes. "Such tall rumors! I have no idea how they get attributed to my love. He is such a little angel! Harmless as a toothless puppy, even!" She spoke, and Ashara and Jaime gave a polite laugh as Theonax nodded to them.

"Arianne, this is my sister, Ashara, and her betrothed, Jaime Lannister. Ashara, Jaime, this is the love of my life and my own betrothed, Arianne Martell, future Princess of Dorne." She smiled graciously and shook hands with the both of them before Ashara and Theonax's eyes met.

"By the way, Theonax, the King made it clear to us, that he would very much like to make your acquaintance before the weddings."

"Yes, apparently, you are quite his hero." Jaime added, and the words caused a look of surprise to appear on his face.

"Really?" The both of them nodded and he gave a half-shrug. "Then of course I will. Don't know how or why the title of 'Hero' could ever be pinned on me, but who am I to complain?" He then broke out into an even bigger smile, then – one that bordered on a grin – as he spoke: "And now, Ash, I must introduce you to _your _admirer!"

Arianne gave a good-natured but nonetheless conspiratorial laugh, and Jaime and Ashara sent each other interested looks as the four of them returned to the group. Lissianna shot her daughter a smile and Typhon and Jaime shook hands as Theonax moved to stand beside a man she did not know. "Ashara, this is my good friend and Arianne's uncle, Oberyn Martell and his beautiful mistress, Ellaria Sand. Oberyn, this is my sister, Ashara, and her betrothed, Jaime Lannister."

Oberyn smiled charmingly as he stepped forward and took up her hand, where he bowed low over it and brushed his lips across the back of it. "Lady Ashara, it is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard much about you from your brother!"

Theonax grinned. "Oberyn here is quite a fan of yours, dear sister."

Oberyn sent him a stern look and clucked his tongue. "Now, now, my friend, I wouldn't call myself a 'fan'! I am simply a lover of beauty, and you, my Lady, are certainly very beautiful. Your Lannister is a very lucky man!" He spoke, and Ashara smiled and thanked him as Jaime nodded. His arm appeared around her waist, bringing her into his side like the other three couples – a gesture that Typhon and Lissianna did not fail to notice.

"I thank you. And yes, I agree. I am a very lucky man."

Oberyn smiled, although the smile did not quite reach his ears, as he turned to Theonax. He clasped Ashara's brother on the shoulder and his smile was much more genuine with Theonax than it had been with Jaime. "Well then, I shall see you later, my friend? I must meet with the Small Council – let them know officially, that we have arrived."

Theonax nodded. "Of course. See you at dinner?" Oberyn grinned and nodded.

"And drink afterwards? Of course! I would not miss it for anything in the world!"

Oberyn and Ellaria said their goodbyes before turning and moving off. It was then that Theonax glanced at his father, who stepped forward. "I suppose we should go meet with the King, should we not, son?" Theonax nodded, as Typhon turned to Jaime. "Do you wish to accompany us, Ser Jaime? We could certainly use your expertise when dealing with the King?"

Jaime shook his head. "Oh, no thank you, Lord Typhon. I have a . . . _meeting _I must attend." He spoke, and Theonax turned to Arianne. They shared a loving smile and a peck on the lips before the two men moved off together. Typhon's arm appeared around his son's shoulders as they immediately descended into a hushed conversation. Lissianna smiled and stepped forward, where she placed a kiss on both of her daughter's cheeks.

"You look beautiful, darling! I'll see you at dinner, though; I promised Satine and Alysanne I would help them prepare themselves for dinner this evening," She rolled her eyes. "The girls want to look quite simply their _best _for tonight, although I couldn't possibly know why!" She spoke before winking, and Ashara smiled and laughed as her mother off, her bright red hair twinkling in the golden sun, and leaving Ashara quite alone with Jaime and Arianne. Turning to him, Jaime gave her an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry for leaving you quite suddenly, but I do have a meeting I have to attend to. I'll accompany you to dinner tonight, yes?" Ashara smiled and Jaime returned it before bending down and placing a light kiss on her lips. A trill of excitement spread throughout her at the gesture when they broke apart and he departed, a smile on his face. She only came back down when Arianne's good-natured laughter forced her to.

"He is quite handsome, my Lady." She spoke, and Ashara nodded.

"He is. He is also quite . . . not what I expected." She spoke, and Arianne nodded as she smiled brightly and moved over to her, where she gently looped her arm through hers.

"I can only imagine. But come, be a dear and show me around, would you not? It is much too beautiful to spend the rest of the day indoors, don't you think?"


	7. Chapter 7

**The correlation between the amount of people who have liked and favorited this story, and those who have reviewed, are way too damn _low_! Seriously, people, is it too much to ask for some more reviews - I ain't kiddin' when I say they're awesome. And if they're good, they are guaranteed to put a smile on the author's face - it is known!**

**This is another one of my favorite chapters and it is a strictly Theonax chapter, too. When I first started writing it, I did not intend for him to completely dominant this chapter, but then he kept going and getting better, and before I knew it, we were both standing at the end with a full chapter at our backs and the man with a damn smirk on his face. So, I wasn't complaining.**

**Anyway!**

**Read, review, and enjoy!**

**\- Nagiana**

* * *

"Anger is a killing thing: it kills the man who angers, for each rage leaves him less than he had been before - it takes something from him."

\- Louis L'Amour

* * *

"Doran is planning something against us. I know it."

Typhon Tytos glanced at his son as they moved swiftly down the corridor towards the courtyard where it was said that Joffrey was waiting for them. "How do you know? Have you stumbled upon something in your searches?"

Theonax shook his head. "No. Doran might be old, but he knows not to leave anything incriminating behind where people like me can easily find them upon rifling through the drawers of his study. And besides, how else do you explain Arianne's presence here? How else do you explain his desire to get the three people who could most oppose him – especially when they are as united as Oberyn, Arianne and I, are - out of the province?"

Typhon Tytos took a moment to mull over the information, and eventually, he nodded. "I agree. It is much too suspicious a thing to ignore. I admit, even _I _was surprised when she showed up on your arm."

Theonax shook his head, his voice lowering still. "You are bearing down on him hard for this marriage contract to be finalized, father – something he _clearly_ does not wish to take place. I also had a very interesting conversation with Quentyn before we left -"

"Quentyn?"

"Arianne's younger brother – the one who is set to inherent everything, including the House seat, upon her untimely demise," Typhon nodded, bidding for him to continue, which Theonax gladly did. "He mentioned that this entire marriage contract was you wanting the throne of Dorne in Tytos hands and that was the _only _reason this contract had even been established. In fact, that seems to be the general consensus of every Dornish nobleman who dislikes me: it is _your _greed that the only reason I am there. If they raise an army with Quentyn or even Trystane at its head alongside Myrcella -"

"_Please_, Theonax! It would be pure folly going up against us at this moment and Doran knows it!" Typhon scoffed before coming to a stop, his son following suit. They turned to face each other and twin violet eyes met the others – a calling card of the Targaryen blood that still ran through their veins. "With the might of our armies and the wealth and additional troops of the Tyrells and the Lannisters at our backs thanks to your sister's marriage, they would be _foolish _to rise against us in any way. No . . . no, he _has _to honor the contract. If he doesn't, he risks the heir to his House remaining unwed and barren. Only a fool would allow such a thing to happen. Only a fool would risk such civil unrest. And you can call Doran a lot of things, but fool is not one of them!"

"Unless that is his intention, only for the seat to pass onto Quentyn upon her childless death. That way, he wouldn't actually have to kill his daughter for it to happen. And hey," He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I never said _Quentyn _wasn't an idiot!"

Typhon pursed his lips and glanced away, deep in thought for a moment, before retuning his eyes onto his son. "I assume you have a plan?"

Theonax grinned. "Oberyn suggested it, actually. What if Arianne and I were married in secret – here, in King's Landing? Oberyn, Ashara and even Jaime if he so chooses, could be our witnesses. We'd get a legitimate Sept and after consummating the wedding, there won't be a damn thing Doran can do about it but make it official. Its underhanded and its low, but at this point, this is the only chance we have for that marriage contract to be signed in either of our lifetimes."

Typhon didn't even blink. "If Arianne agrees, then see it done." He spoke, and Theonax nodded and inclined his head. He moved to walk again, but Typhon's hand on his arm, kept him back. "There is another thing . . ."

Theonax paused and turned a questioning look onto his father. Typhon looked both ways down the corridor before stepping closer to him, his voice lowering as he did so. "There is a reason I am tying together our House with the Tyrells, the Martells and the Lannisters. You are my son, my heir, Theonax – those are the only reasons I bring this to you and not anyone else. I have reports that Daenerys Targaryen grows in power across the Narrow Sea. She commands an army of Unsullied and has captured the cities of Qarth, Astapor, and Meereen. She has _three _growing dragons at her back and the Seven only knows when she is going to choose to attack and take back the throne that is rightfully hers. When that time comes, our House will stand against her and oppose her taking over the throne. _That _is why I need you to be the Head of House Dorne, Theonax! A Martell won't oppose her, but a _Tytos_ . . . a Tytos will."

Theonax stood there and blinked at him almost stupidly for a moment as he continued: "I know I fought on the side of the Targaryens during the rebellion, but that was when we were a minor house of medium renown, fighting underneath the standard of a much more powerful house. But now we are Gods in the game of thrones, Theonax – our house more powerful than it has _ever _been and I'll be _damned _if some teenaged girl is going to come riding in and blow all that to cinders!"

Theonax gave a laugh. "Father, if you make it known you fought on the side of her family during the rebellion, surely you will be given prestige at her court!"

Typhon shook his head. "You haven't been reading the reports I have, son. Her time among the Dothraki has made her wild – there is no chance she would _ever _allow her noblemen to be as powerful as Mace, Tywin and I are. She'd want us weak and cowed," A strange glimmer flashed across his father's gaze then and Typhon once again glanced down either sides of the corridor, his voice lowering still as his hand appeared on his son's chest. "When she dies, Theonax . . . when she dies, son, you do realize that you would be – _by blood_ – the heir to the throne through Daemon Blackfyre and his father before him, Aegon IV. It would be through a bastard line, but son . . . son, think of the _possibilities_!"

Theonax gave a snort of laughter. "Father, you're _insane_! What makes you think the people of Westeros would accept the great-grandson of the usurper _Daemon_ _Blackfyre _on their throne, over the daughter of Aerys the Mad who frees slaves and has fire-breathing dragons?" He shook his head. "And what makes you think I want that damn throne? I've seen what happens to people who come even remotely close to it – Ned Stark lost his head, Robert Baratheon was gored by a boar, Aerys the Mad was stabbed in the back by the very man you are betrothing your daughter to!" He shook his head. "So keep that damn crown away from me and your insane, half-baked ideas to yourself!"

"You are a Blackfyre -!"

"I am a _Tytos_!" Theonax snarled back, his teeth gritting and his hands rolling into fists at his sides. Typhon recoiled slightly, and Theonax shook his head. "I grew up with the glorious tales of my father and my grandfather's prowess in war – _not _a Targaryen bastard who was supposedly this great warrior but who he and his sons couldn't even pull off _one _successful rebellion out of the _five _times they tried it! When I was a babe, I reached out for my _family's_ sword hanging at your waist, _not _a portrait of a man who foisted a bastard off of our grandmother and who didn't even have the care to look after her when she left in fear of his own son's life! I am a Tytos, father, not a Targaryen and _certainly_ not a Blackfyre!"

Father and son shared a hard look then before Theonax turned and continued down the corridor at a march. Anger thrummed through his veins as he moved, simply unable to comprehend for a moment that his father had _dared _suggest what he had thought he had.

The courtyard Theonax entered was almost completely barren, save for the tent constructed at one end of the sparring arena. Two or three Kingsguard stood beside the tent, where Joffrey and who he thought was Margaery, sat, a table of fruit and pitchers of wine and water separating them. Guardsmen were scattered all around the space – not nearly as vigilant in protecting their King and future Queen, as the Kingsguard were.

Anger still thumped madly through his veins as he heard the thump of his father's boots on the limestone floor of the courtyard as he entered in behind him. He shook his head and grit his teeth as he strolled out to the arena. "You there! Guardsman!"

The Guardsman he had pointed towards, jumped and looked sufficiently uneasy at the thunderous expression in Theonax's eyes and on his face. Joffrey and Margaery both turned to look upon Theonax at his outburst, and while Margaery held a politely upturned brow, Joffrey looked pure and utterly confused as to why he would greet a Guardsman before greeting his King like his father had and who was currently now standing beside them, lips pursed and jaw hardened in the same amount of anger his son was feeling.

"Yes, my Lord?"

Theonax nodded. "I want to spar with you. Someone, fetch me a sword!"

The Guardsman now looked completely befuddled, and shifted uneasily from foot-to-foot as a servant came running up to Theonax, a slightly dented sword in his hand. He glanced at Joffrey, only to see a freshly amused look on his face. He spoke something upon glancing at Margaery – something that caused her to smile indulgently but not her eyes.

"Uh, forgive me, my Lord, but why -"

"Because I am angry, Guardsman, and when I am angry, I want to fight," Theonax interrupted him as he took the sword from the servant, who then hurried off from whence he had come. Theonax took a moment to heft it in his hand, taking particular note of the lightness of it and the way it moved rather easily through the air. It wasn't his own sword – it wasn't Feardrinker – but it would have to do.

Arching his brow, Theonax pointed the sword at the Guardsman he was currently standing in front of, before then using it to point at two others. "You, and you, as well. I want you three to come at me at the same time. Hold nothing back."

Now, the Guardsman looked almost terrified. "Forgive me once again, my Lord, but what if -"

Theonax grinned and released a laugh. "Please! I am a Tytos! If you land one single cut on me, then my father will give you a Lordship!" The Guardsmen each shared another uneasy look upon hearing this man was a Tytos, as Theonax turned around and, with a beaming smile, moved towards the King. "I promise, my King, that I will not harm your Guardsmen . . . much."

Joffrey gave an excited laugh, and perched higher up in his chair. "Oh, don't worry about them, Ser Theonax. They can easily be replaced."

Theonax grinned and turned around to face the three Guardsmen who had reluctantly entered the sparring arena with him. "Hear that, men? You are easily replaced, so . . . there's no need to go easy on you, eh?"

The Guardsmen shifted uneasily again as they withdrew their swords and got into a fighter's stance. Theonax did the same. Even though the blade was dulled, it could still cut and while it might not lop a man's hand or arm off, it would definitely leave a good sized bruise. He smirked. This was going to be fun.

Theonax was not in the least bit fazed at the sight of the three powerful men that stood before him, actually sharpened swords drawn. His eyes were cocky, his stance lazy but prepared. He was a Tytos trained, sparring partner of Oberyn Martell – he liked to think he was a formidable warrior with both sword and spear, but knew what happened when simple pride turned into more complex hubris, so he made sure to keep himself in check.

After a moment of watching them almost piss themselves with fear on when he would attack, he smirked and cracked his neck. "Come on. I'm ready when you men are."

His words split through the air like a thudding anvil, strong and powerful and laced with a challenge that the men almost couldn't ignore. They came at him like a hurricane, hoping to overpower him with their combined might, but Theonax was ready for them. He fought and wielded the sword with a savage grace - lithe and powerful as a bronze panther of the Dornish desert. The three people sitting underneath the tent, could barely tear their eyes off of this impromptu fight, especially Joffrey. Meeting his hero was one thing – actually seeing him in action, was a completely different animal.

He fought without armor unlike them, and that proved to be their undoing. Their armor weighed them down and slowed them, especially underneath the hot sun. Theonax, on the other hand, had to worry about no such thing. His movements were full of freedom – his attacks sweeping and rounded and fluid instead of their clumsy ones. His purple eyes flashed dangerously as he picked off his sparring partners one-by-one - moving with a fluid, savage grace to dispatch each quickly, almost like a striking cobra, his deadly venom, the sword in his hand. He used them against each other – used them to disable or disarm the others before going in for the finishing blows. They had grossly underestimated the young Eagle, and the uneasiness now shone on their faces and in their stances and the way they carried and wielded their own weapons.

It made him smile.

He had defeated each one in all of ten minutes, and was breathing heavily while his sparring partners lay dazed in the dust at his booted feet. Joffrey was on his feet, beaming and clapping wildly whilst Margaery continued to sit there, clapping politely and while Typhon remained standing expressionlessly behind them. Theonax bowed cockily to them, tossing his sword carelessly aside as he did so. When he moved to face a standing Joffrey and a sitting Margaery, he smirked and bowed deeply.

"Forgive me for the impromptu sparring match, my King, but it _was_ a rather fitting fight for you and your beautiful Queen's entertainment, would you not say?" He called up to them, and Margaery simply smiled as Joffrey gave another laugh and a nod.

"I see you are still unbelievably flirtatious, Ser Theonax! I am glad to see that not much has changed." She spoke, and Theonax gave a shrug of indifference as he began climbing the stairs. Joffrey hurried to meet him, where he clamped a hand on his shoulder.

"What a riveting display of martial prowess, Ser. Theonax, wouldn't you say, Margaery?" Joffrey asked, and Margaery smiled and nodded as she got to her feet.

"A force to reckoned with, your Majesty!" She spoke as Theonax bowed to her, a smile on his face.

"Margaery. It is good to see you again after all these years." He spoke, and Margaery continued to smile as she moved to embrace him.

"It is good to see you again, as well, old friend." She replied, and Theonax grinned and tilted his head slightly.

"You've also . . . _blossomed _more, since I've last seen you." He whispered, and Margaery gave a good-natured swat of his arm as she released him and moved to stand beside Joffrey. However, he took notice of the slight pinkness that had budded on her cheeks at his words.

"Insatiable flirt you are, Theonax Tytos! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Theonax grinned charmingly, and gave a bow. "Every day, my Lady, every day. But do not fret, my flirting is harmless. My heart belongs to another and I go every day, living for the moment I see her next."

"Arianne Martell?" Margaery asked, a look of curiosity flitting across her face at the name, and Theonax nodded.

"Aye. The very same."

"Where is your lady love?" She asked, and Theonax gave a grin and a laugh.

"I confess, I do not know. I think she is with Ash, touring the grounds. You'll see her at dinner."

Joffrey nodded, clearly bored with the course this conversation had gone, and gestured to the seat at the table. "Please, Ser Theonax, join us!"

Theonax nodded and moved to take the seat, his eyes lingering on his father's for a moment. Typhon moved to take the fourth, silent as always, especially when Joffrey turned his eyes onto his son. "You are a very formidable fighter, Ser. Theonax. Tell me, are all Tytos soldiers as you are?"

Theonax shared another look with his father, who smiled and spoke for him: "Yes, they are, your Majesty. Our soldiers are the toughest in Westeros. Their training is the hardest, as well. We do not flee the battlefield – we fight to the last man standing," He smiled at Theonax. "We come home with our shields or on them . . . the unofficial Tytos motto."

Joffrey smiled, and returned his eyes onto Theonax. "And what of you, Ser. Theonax? Have you almost returned to Etna on your shield before?"

Theonax chuckled as he leaned forward and took up the goblet of water set before him. He took a sip, his eyes lingering on Margaery over the rim, however, she did not return his gaze as she took a sip from her own water goblet. She did shifted slightly underneath it, though.

Typhon noticed this gaze, and his jaw hardened as he landed a sharp kick on his son's calf from underneath the table. Theonax quickly finished taking his sip of water upon feeling this (and which had been more along the lines of a 'drag') and moved to replace it on the table. He smiled at Joffrey, who remained much too starstruck to take notice of the way his hero had been eyeing his betrothed, and smiled inwardly, as well. No doubt Margaery _did _remember their times together back in Highgarden and Etna.

After a moment, he finally answered Joffrey's question. "Let me put it this way, your Majesty: many times, there has been Death at the gates, howling my name. I could never meet him, though – never had the chance."

Joffrey furrowed his eyebrows slightly in confusion. "Why?"

Theonax smiled as he picked up the nearby wine goblet instead of the water one, and brought it to his lips. Joffrey couldn't help but return it as he grinned and winked. "I always had a war to win."

* * *

"A mighty pain to love it is,

And 'tis a pain that pain to miss;

But of all pains, the greatest pain

It is to love, but love in vain."

― Abraham Cowley

* * *

"You do not relish being my presence anymore, I see?"

"It is not that I do not relish being your presence anymore, Theonax, it is simply that this is not Highgarden or Etna. Even the walls here have eyes."

Theonax smirked as he walked down the corridor towards the dining hall, Margaery by his side. Joffrey left them in the courtyard about an hour and a half into their meeting, pleading the duties of Kingship, however, he had lingered long enough to tell Theonax that he would, of course, have the honor of sitting beside him at that night's dinner. Theonax nodded and said he would indeed, be honored, but nevertheless suspected his abrupt departure was due to something else. Not long afterwards, his father was called away by his mother, leaving Theonax and Margaery together alone for the first time in a couple of years. After awkwardly sitting there for a moment, they got to their feet and began making their way down the twisting and turning corridors of Maegor's Holdfast to the dining hall, where everyone would be congregating for dinner.

"I've always heard it was 'ears' . . ."

Margaery glanced at him. "Do not let the rumors fool you: it is both. And besides: we are older now, Theonax – we have responsibilities now. I cannot risk my relationship with the King. It is much too dangerous," Theonax came to a stop at those words, and it took Margaery walking a few more steps before turning to face him. "Theonax, they are waiting for us!"

He nodded, and took a step towards her. "I know. Let them wait a little longer."

One of her eyebrows arched in an 'Are-you-serious?' gesture. "And your _betrothed_, too_. _Who you _love_!"

Theonax nodded again as he continued moving towards her. He arched a brow, then, too. "Oh, aye, I do. I love her like the moon loves the stars. I cannot live without Arianne, for she completes me in a way that I had never thought possible before. If she dies, I die, too, because I would never be happy again, knowing I would have to live without her," Margaery shook her head, bewilderment shining through her eyes as he finally closed the distance between them. His hand curled around her cheek, holding it in his grip and her eyes softened. "But oh, by the Seven, I pine for you like the sun does the moon, Margaery – forever chasing what it wants but cannot have. Even now, lying in bed when I cannot sleep, I replay you in my head, wondering if I hadn't . . . _done _what I did, if . . . if I hadn't been so fucking, Godsdamned, unbelievably stupid, I would have been in Renly's place. I could have given you the wedding night you wanted and deserved, instead of being spurned by a man who preferred the embrace of your brother!"

Furious tears were building in her eyes. "You. _Left_! You left _me_, you bastard!" She snarled, and he nodded, a mournful look appearing in his eyes.

"I know. And it will forever be the biggest regret of my life."

Margaery shook her head, a look of pain twisting her comely features. "You, Theonax Tytos, are _the _biggest bastard I have ever known without your last name actually being Flowers!" She hissed and he grinned and laughed before she pulled him down to her. Their lips met in a passionate, slow kiss, Margaery's hands moving to cup his face as his arms wound around her waist – bringing her tighter against him. Lips moved and tongues danced a sensual dance that made his skin against hers bloom ever hotter. Their clothes suddenly felt much more stifling than they had seconds previously, and it took Margaery a moment to realize that this was what it felt like, when two people desired each other. She had gone without desire in her life for so long, that she almost couldn't recognize it. Renly had desired her brother, not her, and while Joffrey did seem besotted with her, she, unfortunately, could not return the feelings. It seemed a little ironic, then, that the first sparks of desire she felt for a man in months, was those she felt for Theonax Tytos as he pulled her flush against him and as their lips molded to the others.

After a moment, they slowly pulled apart, and Margaery's hands twisted in his shirt as she closed her eyes, tears steadily filling them. "Shh, what's wrong, love?" He breathed, and she shook her head as she stood there and trembled for a moment.

"I'm terrified, Theonax! Joffrey, he's . . . he's a _monster_! I've heard rumors of what he's done to people – heard things from Sansa Stark herself, what if . . . oh, Theonax, what happens if he tries to do those things to me? What if he . . ." She trailed off then, unable to complete her sentence, and Theonax gave her a small, comforting smile as he held her close, his hands moving to frame her face. His thumbs wiped a couple of stray tears running down from her beautiful blue eyes and when she opened them, she saw his own purple ones held a fierce gleam she hadn't seen in a long time.

"Then, my dear, sweet Margaery, I will cut out his heart with a dinner knife and present it to you - still beating - on a silver platter."

Margaery gave a tearful smile as she brought her hands up to frame his face – her thumbs smoothing over those deliciously high cheekbones of his. "That is treason, Ser. Theonax." She murmured, and he smiled as he pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"One last time. For old time's sake?"

Margaery smiled and nodded before turning her face to his. Their kiss this time was slower, but more lingering. And when it was done, they parted, rather reluctantly, and continued their way down the corridor towards the dining hall doors, which creaked open upon them nearing them. Immediately, the both of them made a beeline for the royal table, where Joffrey rose to meet them. He shook eager hands with Theonax, who then turned to shake Tywin's as Joffrey moved to place a kiss on Margaery's cheek. They took their seats while Joffrey remained standing, ready to give his greeting speech for that evening.

Theonax found Arianne through the crowd, sitting not that far away beside Oberyn and Ellaria, and gave her a small, apologetic smile. She returned his smile, a soft, loving look on her face, and it wasn't until he turned his eyes onto Margaery, that he realized he had been sharing Arianne's look of love. She gave a smile too and looked away, although the forlorn look on her face was unmistakable.

Theonax heart gave another familiar twinge, and, once again, realized that while Arianne Martell would be his life's greatest love, Margaery Tyrell would be his life's greatest "what if".


	8. Chapter 8

**I was really going to post this as one big chapter, but then I realized that it was too _big _of a chapter, so I was forced to split it up into two much more smaller, easier to digest chapters. So, with that being said, the second part of the big, monumental wedding chapter, will come up straight after this one. Two chapters in one day - aren't you guys lucky? :)**

**iLSN: Thanks for the review - it was awesome! And thanks for loving them - I love them too :)**

**ujemaima: Thanks for the review, too, hope you love these chapters. And I'm unsure if I want to include more Theonax and Margaery into this fic, or make an entirely new one centered around them when I'm done with this one. I'm debating on it, but I'm not completely sure yet. **

**Remember, reviews are welcome and muchly appreciated! **

**\- Nagiana**

**PS: And what happens in the beginning with Ashara's sister is _very _important. It'll come back later in the story.**

* * *

"Happy is the man who finds a true friend, and far happier is he who finds that true friend in his wife."

\- Franz Schubert

* * *

"I hope my dress is as beautiful as yours is when I get married, Ash."

Ashara smiled at the small, dainty, pretty little Alysanne standing beside her. She was the plainest of the Tytos daughters, Alysanne, but was also the one with a better heart. She was kind and soft-spoken and demure – the kind of girl who was more fit to become a Septa, than marry a man she did not know, and bare that man's eventual children. Ashara smile as she reached forward and cupped her younger sister's cheek. "You will look beautiful too, on your wedding day, Aly, I promise!" She told her, and Alysanne smiled as their mother bustled into the room, an anxious look on her face. Catching sight of the two of them, her jaw hardened and she shook her head.

"You are _still _not in your dress, Ashara? What have you been doing all morning?"

Ashara, who had been standing in the same spot for damn near forty-five minutes while the dressmakers poked and prodded her into the beautiful white wedding dress she was currently wearing before making the correct altercations accordingly, sent a look of disbelief her mother's way. "What have I -?"

"And _where _is Satine? I have been looking for that girl everywhere and I have yet to find her!"

"She was out in the gardens the last time I saw her, mama." Alysanne spoke from her place beside Ashara, and Lissianna gave a bewildered shake of her head.

"_Why _is she out in the gardens? Has she forgotten that her sister is getting married today after the King and Margaery, and that she is holding her sister's train down the aisle? Doesn't she know that she, too, has to get dressed? Oh by _R'hllor_!" She breathed, her temporary religious façade banishing as she heaved a sigh and turned around, where she moved over to the opened balcony doors. She then placed a weary hand to her aching temples, hoping to will away the headache that was determined to start. "We are behind schedule and the Seven forbid Cersei use _us _as an excuse as to why we are! I swear, if that girl does not make herself known in five seconds, I will marry her off to Butterbumps!"

Ashara and Alysanne shared a grin and a giggle before Alysanne moved over to stand beside her. After placing a gentle hand on her mother's shoulder, she smiled. "Don't worry mother, I can go fetch her, if you wish." She spoke, and Lissianna sent her youngest daughter a grateful look.

"Would you, my sweet girl?" She asked, and after Alysanne smiled and nodded, Lissianna returned the smile, as well as placing a kiss on her forehead. "Thank the Mother for you, my dear. I will marry you to an honorable, Knightly Lord, my sweet girl, for that is who you deserve!"

Alysanne couldn't help but smile as she turned and bounded from the room to find the middle of the Tytos sisters. Lissianna heaved a sigh as she moved over to Ashara and cast a scrutinizing gaze over her dress. Seemingly content with it, she straightened the ruby necklace at her neck before speaking:

"I swear, Ash, Theonax was easier to raise than you girls ever were!" She muttered before backing away and taking a seat at the nearby table, where she observed the dressmakers quickly finishing up their altercations. Ashara grinned.

"That seems highly improbable." She spoke, and Lissianna gave a shrug.

"Granted, it took all me and Nanny's willpower to keep clothes on that boy when he was young, but eventually, all he wanted was a sword and a horse to be happy, and your father was more than happy to fulfill those wants. He was easy. Meanwhile, you girls were so _obstinate_! You wanted dresses and dolls and if you didn't get them, then oh, by _R'hllor_, the tantrums you three would throw!" She gave a gentle laugh as she shook her head, and Ashara smiled.

"So . . . hope for sons?" She asked, a slightly teasing tone to her voice, and Lissianna shook her head. The look she sent her daughter then, was soft and loving – the look on her face she got whenever she referred to any of her children, not just Theonax or Ashara.

"Hope for both, my darling. Give Jaime a son first, though, for it is a man's greatest desire in this world to have a son, and he'll much more amenable to daughters if he already has a boy to take hunting and hawking. Typhon didn't care how many girls I presented to him – he already had Theonax. After that, you let him give you as many sons and daughters as you want, for a woman's greatest pleasure in this world, is her children."

Ashara nodded, choosing to remain silent in reply to her mother's words, for she knew, deep in her heart, that Jaime would not be like her father in any respect of the word. She knew it wouldn't matter _what_ the gender of their first child was - Jaime would love and adore it all the same. He would dote on their daughters and adore their sons. His words to her the previous day while moving to greet the arrival of her brother, reminded her of that fact.

Not-to-mention, Jaime had a heart. Half the time, she thought her father didn't.

"But, Jaime is different, I see that. Your situation is markedly different than mine was," Her mother eventually spoke, and immediately, Ashara turned a furrowed brow onto her mother. Lissianna was sitting there, observing her nails in the light. Ashara felt, for some peculiar reason, that her mother was avoiding her gaze now. "When I was a girl and I married your father, I married a man who had been raised to believe that sons are everything. Sons have the blood of the great Daemon Blackfyre in their veins – sons are raised to be the great warriors of the House – the ones that give House Tytos the renown they have now. Jaime is not Typhon – they are both very different men. Jaime might not care if you present him a daughter or a son first. He might not care how many times it takes before he gets his son because he will love his children for one very simple reason that Typhon did not have with me until much later in our marriage. He will love his children because they come from you, Ash, and that man will love you more and more for every child you give him that lives."

Ashara smiled at her mother's uncustomary kind words, and opened her mouth to speak, however, she found herself interrupted by two arguing voices that split through the air from down the corridor. Lissianna and Ashara shared a look before the door was suddenly thrown open. Ashara jumped, causing the seamstresses to pause and hiss in irritation, while Lissianna jumped to her feet, eyes wide with sudden anger. Alysanne and Satine moved into the room, looks of fury on their faces and arguing quite loudly as the door banged shut behind them.

"You honestly think you matter to him?"

"I _know _I do! You would understand if -"

"Where _were you_?"

Lissianna's frigid voice caused the two girls to come to shuddering stops. Their gazes dutifully turned onto her and a red brow arched as Lissianna moved to cross her arms in front of her chest. She directed her words to Satine. "Well? You knew today was a very important day for your sister, Satine. Why were you not here getting ready?"

Satine stood there rather uneasily underneath her mother's gaze for a moment before speaking: "I was in the gardens."

"And what, pray tell, is so important in the gardens, that you chose to spurn your duties?"

Satine stayed silent for a moment more, content to avoid her mother's gaze. "No one."

Lissianna's brow rose. "No one? I said 'what' not 'someone'," She turned her eyes onto Alysanne then. "Aly?"

Alysanne shifted uneasily from foot-to-foot for a moment, before meeting Satine's withering stare. She sent a furtive look to her mother before speaking, her voice so quiet, that they had to strain their ears to hear her.

"Gareth Clifton."

Lissianna's eyebrows rose as Ashara's eyes widened in surprise. "Gareth Clifton . . . what are you doing, talking to him?" She asked, her voice breathy, and it was then that Satine rose her eyes to meet her mother's. They were fierce and defiant – true Tytos eyes.

"We love each other."

"Love?" Lissianna laughed before shaking his head. "That man is married, Satine, with children enough to form an entire other House! He does not love you, my dear girl – he is using you for something your young, foolish mind cannot comprehend! Love is not -"

"What? Love is not real?" Satine interrupted her, rather haughtily, before throwing a look Ashara's way. "What about Jaime and Ash? Only two days together and already, they are devoted to each other. How can you look at them and say that love is not real?"

Lissianna's jaw was hard. Her gaze was angry. "I was _not _going to say that. If you let me finish, I was going to say that love does not exist between a married man and a girl your age. The meaning of love comes with age – comes with two people who understand and respect each other on a primal level. Honestly, Satine what do you expect will come of this?"

Satine's head rose then as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Ashara's chest rose heavily as a spike of fear for her younger sister, impaled her heart. Satine . . . poor, foolish, pretty Satine, who thought both her looks and her name could get her through this world unscathed. Poor, foolish, pretty Satine was about to say something that she would live to regret very much.

"He promised to make me his mistress."

A deep silence pervaded the room then, one that eventually ended with a sharp 'crack' that split through the air. Ashara and Alysanne continued to stand there, looks of shock echoing on their faces, as they watched their mother slap Satine across the face. It had been the first time their mother had ever slapped any one of them - even Theonax - and the shock running through Satine's body was ten times greater than the one flowing through Ashara and Alysanne's. When Lissianna spoke, her voice was tight and barely above a hiss.

"You . . . _foolish _girl!" Her eyes were wide with anger. "_Mistress_? This House was founded by a bastard but one with merit – one with the blood of King's running through his veins – not some minor Lordling who has a desire to diddle young girls! Give us time, Satine, and your father and I could betroth you to a _great _family – a Martell or a Lannister or a Tyrell. You are the daughter of House Tytos – you could do _much _better in this life than being the unwanted mistress of a _minor _Lord!"

"I love -"

"You _do not love him_, you foolish girl!" Lissianna snapped at her, eyes still filled with anger. Slowly, she shook her head. "You do not love him and he does not love you. You make this decision and your father will never allow you to come home again when you come to the realization that you were stupid to make this decision. You make the decision that I think you are about to make, and you are dead to Typhon. He will go around denying your lineage – denying that he is your father – and he will force me and your sisters and your brother, to do the same. You will be in this world alone, without father, without family – without _protection_! No House of merit will accept you or come to your defense because Typhon will go around claiming he is the father of two daughters, not three. Do you know what I am telling you, Satine? Do you understand the consequences of what you are about to do?"

Ashara shook her head, her head pounding in her chest once she understood what her mother was talking about. "Satine, for the love of the Seven, _don't_!"

Satine turned to gaze at Ashara then at her older sister's words, her eyes wide and fearful but also terribly, heart-breakingly defiant. Her pride was wounded by their mother's painfully true words, and once a Tytos' pride was damaged, there was no patching it up. Eventually, she turned to look at Alysanne and Lissianna in turn before turning around and leaving the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Alysanne's eyes filled with tears and she released a sob. Ashara stood there, stunned to speechlessness by her sister's momentous, incredibly rash decision, while Lissianna stood there shaking her head.

"Mother, what are we to do?" Alysanne eventually spoke, and Lissianna heaved a sigh.

"First things first: you're going to hold Ashara's train down the aisle, Aly. Later, after the wedding, I'll tell your father what has happened," She shook her head. "Hell hath no fury like Typhon Tytos scorned. And by his own daughter."

* * *

Typhon led her down the aisle, like Mace had with Margaery mere minutes before. Alysanne trailed behind them, the snow white, silver embroidered train of Ashara's wedding gown clutched in her small hands. She found her brother's eyes through the crowd where he stood with her family and Arianne in the first row, and returned Theonax's comforting smile before casting her gaze ahead, where she quickly found Jaime's. Margaery and Joffrey stood off to the side as they approached Jaime standing at the height of the first set of steps. The people around them were suffocating, but Ashara found herself lost and comforted in Jaime's eyes as they approached. She took note of the smile on his face at the sight of her – a smile of happiness and pride. Her heart gave a thud at the sight. It was a gaze markedly different than the one Joffrey had given Margaery, and for that, she found herself the luckier of the two.

They soon came to a stop, and Typhon bowed and stepped backwards, only to melt back into the ranks of his family and House once they reached the Lannister heir. Jaime stepped forward, looking handsome and shining in his gold robes, and offered Ashara his arm. She took it with a smile that he returned as, together, they moved up the second flight of steps to stand before the High Septon. She felt her heart pick up its pounding pace. These were her last few moments of being a maiden. Soon – quite soon – she would be a married woman. She would have a husband. Eventually, she would have children and become a mother. Jaime would be her husband – the father to those children. It all seemed so surreal for a moment that she felt faint, however, Jaime moving beside her, kept her grounded. Jaime would always keep her grounded, she knew.

They came to a stop after mounting the stairs, and the High Septon gazed at the both of them rather expectantly before Ashara, with that same pounding heart, turned around. She heard the unfurling of a cloak as Jaime took his off, and a snap as he snapped it out into order. She felt the heaviness of the luxurious cloth around her shoulders as he tenderly placed it around her, and suddenly felt the harsh sting of tears in her eyes as he tenderly squeezed her arms. She felt sorrow for Satine – her poor, foolish, pretty little sister who would never know this feeling. Alysanne would eventually find herself betrothed to a true Knight – an honorable, kind man, who would place a cloak of his family's colors around her shoulders at their wedding to symbolize his eternal protection of her. Satine, who had made the foolish decision to become a mistress to a minor Lord she foolishly thought she loved, instead of becoming wife of a strong, powerful Lord, would never know this feeling. She had ruined those great chances for herself. Ashara's heart went out to her.

With tears still beading in her eyes, she turned back around and immediately caught sight of Jaime's nervous expression at the sight of them. She gave him a smile and reached out to take his hand. She gave it a comforting squeeze and he quickly returned it. The movement put him at ease, she could see, as they turned their gazes onto the High Septon standing before them and rose their clasped hands. He smiled kindly before wrapping a length of clothe around their clasped hands and speaking:

"Let it be known, that on this day, Ashara, of House Tytos, and Jaime, of House Lannister, are one heart and one flesh," He unwound the length of cloth from their hands, and they shared another smile. "And one soul. Cursed be he who sought to tear them asunder."

Jaime gave her a hand a squeeze before turning to face the crowd. When he spoke, his voice was deep and strong – the roar of a lion that made her smile. Children with the roar of lions and the blood of R'hllor fire, her mother had said. At that moment, she couldn't have cared less if they had the mewling of kittens and the blood of matchstick flames. Jaime was a good man, and he was hers. She couldn't have asked for anyone better to become her husband.

His hand left her and instead, moved to cup her cheek. She leaned into the touch as he spoke: "With this kiss, I pledge my love for Ashara of House Tytos and House Lannister. And with this kiss, let it be known that I _will_ remain faithful to our love, and love no other as long as she still walks this earth."

Ashara practically jumped into his arms when he leaned down to kiss her, something in resulted in a spattering of laughter and an outcry of applause. Turning to face the crowd, they stood there, hands clasped, and waited for Margaery and Joffrey to move down the aisle before they took off. Ashara and Margaery shared a smile, although Ashara would bet anything she felt giddier by her marriage, than Margaery was by hers. After all, Jaime's words at the end blew the pants off of Joffrey's.

"Our daughter seems happy, does she not?" Lissianna spoke as she stood by her husband, the both of them clapping as Jaime and her moved - the both of them damn near beaming - down the aisle. Typhon nodded, his voice gruff when he spoke:

"At least one of our daughter's knows her duty and loves it."

Lissianna smiled and canted her head to the side slightly. "Oh, I don't think it is her duty she loves, per say, as much as the man who her duty now lies towards," She glanced at her husband. "Tytos born or not, your daughter is a Lannister now. She will go to bed with a Lannister man she adores and who adores her in turn. She will give birth to Lannister children who will be given everything they desire in the world. I do hope you recognize the implications behind that, Typhon."

"Of course I do, Lissi!" He all but snapped, however, Lissianna merely stood there, smiling almost serenely as she continued to clap.

"Really? Because I don't think you do, my love," She turned her eyes onto him, and he met them evenly. "I think you underestimate the amount of love and loyalty that will exist between them given time. You should remember that, before you choose to do something stupid later."

Typhon gave a snort of laughter. "Doubtful."

Lissianna gave a hum. "After what happened this morning with Satine, my love, nothing surprises me with this family, anymore."

Typhon whirled his head around to face her, his eyes wide with concern and confusion. "Satine? What happened with Satine?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Thar be lemons in this chapter - you have been warned!**

* * *

"Grab my hair like you grabbed

My heart, forcefully

With your fists.

Pull my hips closer to yours

Like the tides and teach me

Why the moon floods

The beach at midnight

Remind me how to breathe

By making me breathless

Don't love me tenderly

Love my reckless."

\- Anonymous

* * *

It was at the wedding afterwards, that Ashara finally understood what everyone meant when it came to Joffrey.

Everyone watched with bated breath as Joffrey stood and moved over to his uncle sitting at the far side of the table with a Sansa Stark who looked desperately like she wanted to cry at the fresh attention of the King onto her husband. She looked fearful that they would shift onto her, and Ashara's hand tightened on Jaime's as the King upturned his goblet of wine over Tyrion Lannister's head, and all for declining the capricious King of dressing up like the dwarf mummers for his amusement.

"Poor Sansa . . . her life must be horrible, having to cower under the King's shadow like she does."

"Better her than you, my -"

"My love, come back to me!" Margaery suddenly called out, interrupting Jaime as she smiled and held her hand out to Joffrey. "Our fathers are about to make the wedding speeches!" She spoke, referring to Typhon and Mace, who both smiled and got to their feet with a bow. Joffrey returned her smile and nodded.

"But how can I make a toast without any wine?" He asked as he moved around the table to stand in the circle that the mummers had performed in only seconds before. "Uncle? Would you mind being my cupbearer?"

After a moment, Tyrion got to his feet and after shooting a look Sansa's way, moved to join him. When he was standing beside him, Joffrey dropped the goblet, which hit the ground with a clatter. A profound silence grew when Tyrion bent down to pick it up, only for Joffrey to cruelly kick it aside. Ashara swallowed hard and glanced at Jaime, who she saw held a hard look on his face that was completely at odds with the smirk Cersei held on hers. Whereas the Queen Dowager had always resented Tyrion for killing their mother during childbirth (something Ashara had an extremely hard time understanding, for how could that have been Tyrion's fault?) Jaime had always gotten along with his brother. Ashara knew how much he loved his little brother, and she could only imagine how much this was paining him to see. His bastard son, treating his brother like this.

She smiled as strong as she could and leaned over to press her lips to the corner of his mouth. "Don't worry. Our children shall not be so cruel." She murmured, and Jaime gazed at her for a moment, his eyes pained, before allowing a small, weak smile to grace his features. After a moment, he nodded and returned her kiss with a peck.

"You're right. They won't."

They returned their eyes onto the scene playing out before them, and for a split moment, she caught sight of Theonax, Arianne and Oberyn standing a little ways away, cups of wine in their hands. While Theonax's face was thoroughly expressionless, Oberyn and Arianne both were having a little bit of a harder time trying to mask the disgust on theirs. They watched as Sansa picked up the goblet from underneath the table and handed it to her husband, who took it from her with an expressionless face but whose eyes were grateful. The motion seemed to only irritate Joffrey, and he shifted angrily. Ashara felt Jaime squeeze her hand and moved to glance at him shaking his head. "Thank the _Mother_ they won't be like him."

"What good is an empty cup? Fill it." Tyrion dutifully did as he was told before handing it to him, not once moving to meet his nephew's gaze. Joffrey's jaw hardened. "_Kneel_."

Ashara saw Theonax shift out of the corner of her gaze and moved to see his eyes were locked with Margaery's. Looking towards her friend, she saw Margaery's chest heaving. Her gaze was pinned with Theonax's and seemed to be the only thing keeping her from bursting into tears. Ashara found this interesting. What was it about Theonax that kept her grounded the same way Jaime did her?

"I said . . . KNEEL!"

Jaime inhaled a sharp breath at this, and Ashara, unthinking, placed her other hand on their clasped ones. This seemed to give him comfort, and he relaxed a little.

"Look, the pie!"

Margaery, saving the day once again, it seemed.

Ashara saw Theonax release a breath when Margaery broke their gazes and got to her face, a sound of happiness in her voice and on her face in a smile as she pointed. Theonax took a quick gulp of his wine as Oberyn gently touched his arm and whispered something to him. Theonax nodded as Oberyn melted off into the crowd. Everyone got to their feet and clapped and cheered as four pages appeared, a beautiful, huge golden pie supported on a litter between them. Grabbing Jaime's hand, Ashara led him down and through the crowd to Theonax. She felt Jaime relax the further away they got from the royal table, and knew that he would feel better the further away they got from the King.

"That was cruelty." He murmured, and Ashara nodded in agreement as they stood there, watching as Margaery moved to join Joffrey on the floor. Moving to draw his sword, he took a sip of the wine from the goblet before putting the goblet down on the table behind them. Turning towards the pie, he gave a great over swing of his sword, and brought it down on the pie. There was a clang and suddenly, a flock of doves erupted from the top, causing the people in the crowd to 'ooo' and 'aah'. The four of them stood there, clapping politely but not feeling the awe of it.

"Wonderful!" Margaery spoke, her eyes flitting to Theonax, who answered by taking a sip of his wine. Joffrey, grinning, moved to join her. "My hero!"

Ashara turned to Jaime, her hand appearing on his chest as she did so. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close as Theonax turned to Arianne. In hushed voices, they began to speak, Theonax's ghosting touches leaving Arianne's smiling. "I would ask if we could leave, but this _is _partially our wedding feast, too . . ." Ashara spoke, and Jaime shot her a small, comforting smile.

"Give a few minutes for Joffrey's outburst to die down. After that, we can -"

"Uncle! Where are you going?"

The four of them released silent groans as Joffrey spoke again, this time, to a Tyrion trying to quietly depart with Sansa. The both of them froze as Joffrey added: "You're my cupbearer, remember?"

"I thought I might change out of these wet clothes, your Grace," Tyrion answered, referring to his wine-stained clothing. Joffrey shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing in concern as he continued to eat away at the slice of pie in his hands.

"Oh no, no, no! You're perfect the way you are. Serve me my wine," Margaery closed her eyes and Ashara saw the feeling of: "Please-Help-Me-Seven" descend throughout her frame. Tyrion glanced behind him at Sansa before moving to the wine goblet he had so hastily put down. "Well hurry up! This pie is dry!"

Grabbing ahold of it, he took it back and handed it to Joffrey after he handed Margaery his plate of half-eaten pie. Taking a swallow of it, Tyrion was heading back towards Sansa, before he turned around to face him. "Please, your Grace, Lady Sansa is very tired -!"

"No!" Joffrey interrupted him with a cough. "You'll wait here -"

Loud gasps and screams split through the air quite suddenly as Margaery yelled out that he was choking. Ashara gasped, her hand appearing at her collarbone when she caught sight of what was happening to Joffrey. She caught a fleeting glimpse of her brother's eyes widening in abject shock over the frozen rim of his goblet, as well as Arianne's eyes widen in horror from in-between them, and quickly noticed exactly why.

She latched a hand onto Jaime. "Oh by the Seven, _look _at him!"

Up there on the stage, in front of the beautiful, massive pie and his glowing bride (who shared glances with Theonax ever now and then) behind him, Joffrey was choking. His face was turning the most horrific shade of mottled purple that Ashara had ever seen -!

"Oh by the Seven!" She breathed out, her eyes widening the same as her brother and her future sister-in-law's had, and immediately, she latched a terrified grip onto Jaime. His eyebrows furrowed in concern at his wife's terror, and when he turned to gaze at Joffrey, his face paled and his eyes widened in horror as well.

Immediately, he barked for her sister, and Alysanne hastened to her sister's side. "Alysanne, take Ashara to my – _our_ rooms!" He ordered, quickly correcting himself, and she nodded before latching onto her arms, where they yanked her into a more steady position on her feet. Jaime turned to Theonax to speak but already saw the Tytos heir moving swiftly through the crowd towards a stunned Margaery, a wide-eyed look on his face.

"Go after him! I'll go with Ash." Arianne spoke up, and he nodded as Jaime quickly waded his way through the crowd toward a collapsed Joffrey and a sobbing Cersei kneeling beside him. Arianne took Alysanne's place beside her, and the two women both pulled her from the gathering and toward the chambers she would reside in from that day forth with Jaime.

Immediately when they were safe Alysanne and Arianne burst into fierce whispers while Ashara blindly searched for a chair and fell into it facing the door, Arianne and Alysanne helping her the entire way, and with a concerned looks ever on their faces. Meanwhile, Ashara felt numb. How could things have gone from joyous but tense, to so horrific? How was Jaime feeling at that moment – how was _Margaery _feeling at that moment?

Poor, poor Margaery . . . her future had gone from being so secure one minute, to suddenly, quite terrifyingly, unstable, the next.

For the next two to three hours it seemed, Ashara waited silently and patiently after changing into her nightgown, watching the door, while her sister and Arianne sat beside her, heads bowed and speaking every so once in a while in hushed whispers, always about something inconsequential that they almost regretted speaking afterwards. Eventually, though, the door to the rooms opened and Jaime and Theonax both slid inside, the two of them appearing bone-tired. Ashara let out a relieved sigh and immediately jumped to her feet as her sister and Arianne fell silent.

Without speaking and his expression grim, Jaime held his arms open to her and she rushed, unthinking, into them. He enfolded her in a warm, strong, protective embrace, and slowly, her heart stopped its frantic beating. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Arianne move silently into Theonax's arms, where he hugged her tightly, as well. She liked the Princess of Dorne and she liked how calm she made her brother. She hardly recognized Theonax now.

But Jaime was who her thoughts had always made their way back to. He was back and in her arms. He was _safe_!

"Are you alright?" He asked her when they had parted, concern lacing his voice and creasing the handsome planes of his face, and Ashara nodded. She gave him a small, comforting smile.

"Y-Yes, I am. Do not worry for me. What happened, though? Is the King okay?" She asked, and Jaime's face darkened. He glanced at Theonax and Ashara noticed her brother held the same dark look.

"There is a conspiracy afoot. The King has been poisoned and he lies dead. My sister points the finger at Tyrion and he has been arrested, but no matter how badly he got along with the King, I know that Tyrion had nothing to do with this. He . . . doesn't have the constitution for killing."

"You mean because he's a dwarf?" She spoke, rather bluntly, and he gave her a small smile and a nod.

"Exactly. Not that I'm saying he doesn't have a self-preservation streak, because he does! He just . . ." Jaime gave a weary shrug. "Goes about it with his mind instead of his sword. And not-to-mention, poison is a woman's weapon. Not exactly Tyrion's style."

They descended into a harsh silence that was eventually broken by Theonax's gentle touch on her arm. "We're going to go to our rooms now. Leave you two alone." He spoke, and the both of them nodded. She hugged Theonax and Arianne both and watched them leave as Jaime heaved a weary sigh and moved through the silken curtains to the bed. Slowly, she turned around and watched him go. Eventually, she moved off after him and took a tentative perch on the bed.

It was then that they stood there in absolute silence once everyone was gone, almost not knowing what to say to the other now that they were completely and utterly alone. She sat there on (what she presumed, anyway; it was the side furthest from the door) would be her side of the bed, watching him and trying to keep her heartbeat from jumping up into her mouth like it wanted to. She knew Jaime would be willing to wait if she asked him to – the afternoon had been more than traumatizing for the both of them, and that he would understand if she told him she wanted to be there for Margaery that night – but found that she _didn't_ want to wait. It wasn't that she just wanted to get it over with, but . . . simply that she _wanted _to. She _wanted _to have a wedding night – she didn't want to put it off like everyone was fully expecting them to.

So she didn't say a thing. And as the seconds quickly dwindled away into minutes, she became more comfortable until she was sitting there in the middle of their great expanse of a marriage bed, legs tucked up underneath her, waiting for something to happen. The stresses of the day began to fade away little by little until the only thing that made her nervous was the fact that she going to have sex that night for the very first time. She wondered if it would hurt like so many of her friends and her Nanny had told her, but then realized that she shouldn't be worried about such a thing, because she knew Jaime would be understanding. Any other man would have had her sweating bullets, but Jaime . . . she didn't feel all that concerned with Jaime.

"I can keep the hand on, if you want . . ."

Jaime's quiet words forced her back down into reality, and she gave a little jump before turning her eyes onto him. It took her a moment to realize that he had been referring to the golden hand he always wore over his stump, and couldn't help but quickly run her eyes over him before she gave her answer. He was standing there across from her, a little ways away from the foot of the bed. His jacket was shed – folded neatly over the back of the nearby chair. His boots were gone too, placed beside the chair and the discarded jacket. She gave a shrug, a look of innocence so clear on her face for a moment, that Jaime couldn't help but allow his heart to give a pang at the sight.

"You can if you want to. I don't mind if you don't."

Jaime stood there, not knowing what to do. The gold of the hand was heavy and he ached to toss away the damn thing until morning, but at the same time, he didn't want to make her uncomfortable in any way – not on this night of all nights. Then, he remembered that day in the garden, when she had walked beside him, her hand unafraid of being on the shining gold of the prosthetic in front of everyone, and knew it wouldn't bother her like he thought it would. Ashara wasn't like the others. She wasn't like Cersei, who only cared about how he looked and what he could do for her. No, Ashara was _good_ \- she was _kind_ \- and for a minute, he had the hardest time wondering how the hell such an amazing young woman ever came from Typhon Tytos' seed.

Come to think of it . . . he could wonder the same about how Tommen and Myrcella had come out so good and innocent when stacked up beside the now deceased Joffrey.

"You sure?" He slowly asked after taking his own moment in his thoughts, and she nodded.

"Of course. If it pains you, take it off. I don't want you to be uncomfortable!"

He gave a little half-grin and a laugh as he unstrapped it and pulled it off. She didn't want _him_ to be uncomfortable! It was _her_ wedding night – the night she would lose her maidenhead and _she _didn't want _him _to uncomfortable! Seven bless her, for Jaime couldn't help wondering next how he had ever managed to land her as his wife after all the shit he had committed.

It came off as easily as it always did, and he placed it gently down onto the nearby table, where it settled with a heavy 'thunk'. He moved over to the foot of the bed and for the first time since their meeting, felt a curtain of awkwardness fall between them. He had a hard time figuring out if it came from him or her.

"We, uh . . . we can keep our shirts on, if you want . . ."

He trailed off, and Ashara interrupted him but giving a small, comforting smile and rising to her hands and knees. Moving over to him, she placed her hands on his shoulders before moving to kneel before him. Framing his face with her hands, she hesitated for a moment before leaning in and ghosting her lips across his. His body tensed at the touch as she slowly withdrew, that same small smile on her face as she held his green gaze with hers.

"I'll take mine off if you take yours off, Jaime."

Those words uttered on a quiet breath, were so utterly Theonax, that Jaime had no more lingering doubts that the two of them were, in fact, related. He also found himself wondering why the hell _she _was the one being so calm and _he _was the one who felt so damn nervous. This wasn't his first rodeo, however, it _was _hers. But yet, here he was, standing there, terrified of making her comfortable, terrified of hurting her in any way, and here she was, breaking down every single one of those fears with a coolness and a calmness that he almost envied. It had taken him going into many battles to become as fearless as she was being right then, at that moment.

Her hair glittered and gleamed in the soft, romantic light of the candles, and he felt the sudden, all-encompassing need to bury his hand deep in those thick, luxurious locks of hers. He refrained, however, for fear of moving too fast even for her right now. So, instead, he curled his hand around her head, thumb rubbing soft, soothing circles against her earlobe, before pulling her against him. Their lips met tentatively at first – taking the time to gauge each other's reactions – before deepening slightly. Her mouth opened to him and her tongue moved out to meet his. They tangled briefly for a moment, tasting each other, before they broke apart. The emerald green of his eyes were darker now, although his touch was still soothing and gentle against her. Bravely, boldly, she grasped the hem of his shirt and pulled it upwards and over his head. He allowed it to go with nary a sound of protest, and as the cloth fluttered to the floor, Ashara allowed her eyes to rake over him – the first man she had ever seen shirtless before.

She _had_ kissed boys before – she wasn't totally inexperienced. Lucas, months before he left for war with his father, they had stood out in the Godswood and experimented with different techniques and motions before stopping in fear of getting caught. She had even snuck a kiss off of Garlan Tyrell the night before he was to be married to Leonette Fossoway - something that had cost the both of them much guilt afterwards. That, however, had been the extent of her experience. She had never seen a man with his shirt off before, and as far as firsts go, she was pleased with Jaime. Tall and lean but with a muscular bulk that lay beneath smooth, lightly tanned flesh - he felt absolutely amazing underneath the pads of her fingers. And the kiss he pressed to her lips that time was headier and more urgent – just a tad – and Ashara readily allowed it to sweep her up in its current.

"Like what you see?" He murmured, and her face broke out into a grin that immediately warmed his heart. He didn't stop her when she half jumped, half fell against him off of the bed. Her lips met his in a passionate kiss. His arms wrapped around her waist to keep her against him as he fell back against the dresser situated behind him. His mouth opened to her and she marveled for a moment at how much more passionate and gentle this was than what she had expected it to be. _Jaime_ was much more gentle and passionate than she had expected him to be.

After a moment, his hand moved upwards to delicately cup her face as his lips pressed against hers in a returned kiss. Was he doing this on purpose? Or was this how he kissed the women he wanted? Ashara felt a twinge of jealousy in her heart as she thought about the other women he had kissed in his life. Did he once kiss Cersei like this?

Jaime's hand and his arm wrapped around her waist, pulled her a little harder against him as his kiss became more eager. It distracted her from her poisonous thoughts and once again submerged her into more pleasant ones. He was so much older than her – so much more experienced than her in bed. The knowledge sent a thrill of nervous excitement throughout her body. When he finally pulled away, Ashara blinked rapidly and took in a slow, measured breath.

He lay his hand on Ashara's waist and she placed her hands on his cheeks in turn, where she pulled him down into another deep kiss. Their lips parted slightly as their tongues inched their way out. They connected briefly for a moment before the both of them pulled away. Jaime moved her backwards just a little until they were inches from hitting the silk swathed bed. Ashara turned around and kept her back to him as she removed the nightgown covering her. Jaime's breath caught in his throat as his eyes roamed up and down her body, taking in her slender shoulders and torso that eventually gave way to a pair of slim but nonetheless voluptuous pair of hips and legs. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her waist when he couldn't bear to not have her in his arms for a moment longer.

His callused fingers trailed lightly across the flat plane of her stomach before he moved her hair out of the way and pressed loving kisses down along the column of her neck. The stubble of his beard scratched at her sensitive skin and made it tingle. She drew in a deep breath as his hand returned to her stomach, where it then moved south. When they made contact with the slight patch of curling black hair at the apex of her thighs, she inhaled sharply. If he still had his other hand, it would be at her breast now - the calloused flesh gently caressing the soft skin; his thumb slowly encircling her nipple before moving to lightly roll the rapidly hardening bud underneath the callused pad. But it wasn't, although he could still hear her breath hitch from other ministrations, and couldn't help but smile.

Her eyes fluttered closed and her hand reached up to lightly rest on the back of his head as his lips continued to make love to the back of her neck while breathing in the sweet smell that clung to her hairline. She laid the other on his arm, coaxing his hand further downwards towards her womanhood. Her heartbeat increased exponentially as she felt his fingers move past the hair to make contact with the outer lips of her swollen sex. He gently ran them up and down the length of her, and she bit down on her lip as the pleasure started to build deep from within her stomach.

His hand left her briefly to fumble with his belt buckle and then the stays of his breeches. After a moment longer, his breeches slid down his legs, only for him to casually kick them aside. He deliberately kept his waist farther away from her as he re-reached his hand around her and resumed his play of her. Ashara slowly inched herself backwards, however, until her body made full contact with his again. She felt his warm manhood pressing against her lower back, and her arousal heightened as she felt him throb gently against her. She let out an audible moan and once again, he found himself cursing the fact that he no longer possessed two hands.

Then, without warning, she lifted Jaime's hand from off her body, and turned around to face him. Their eyes lingered on the others for mere seconds before she pressed herself tightly up against his lean, muscular bulk. Then, after standing up on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his. She draped her arms over his broad shoulders as he wrapped his around her back – his one hand splaying out on the small of her back while his other arm wrapped around her further upwards – the stump laying between her shoulder blades. They kissed for a moment before he reluctantly released her. Taking his hand and, smiling, she slowly pulled him backwards towards the bed. Their lips connected again in a more lingering kiss, and she carefully lowered herself down onto the sheets without ever breaking it. His hand flew out and caught himself on the mattress before he could fall on her.

Her hand flattened out on his muscular chest before moving down the taut, muscled plain of his stomach. It finally came to rest on his jumping manhood. She wrapped her delicate fingers around the silken flesh and after opening her legs, boldly guided him towards her entrance. She felt the tip of him part the delicate folds of her sex, and a sharp spike of pleasure immediately shot throughout her body, originating deep within that pool of warmth in her belly. She released a gasp as her heart picked up its beat and began to thump in her chest again, as it began to heave. Moving forward, he carefully pushed forward until his cock was inside her.

Ashara's eyes fluttered closed again, and her mouth fell open in another wordless gasp as a flood of sensations immediately threatened to overwhelm her, and which _did_ overwhelm the fleeting but sharp, tearing pain that had come upon him entering her. There had been that small twinge of pain coupled with the feeling of him stretching her that made her voice fail her for a moment, and her head to swim. Jaime was _much_ bigger than she had thought he would be – enough to force him to stop while her body adjusted itself to fit his thick girth and the occasional shoots of pain.

After a few heated moments passed, which involved them simply savoring their bodies being connected in such an intimate way, her hips bucked up into his, giving him permission to resume. His eyes closed in pleasure and a low groan tore loose from his lips as he hung his head. His hand was pressed into the mattress beside her head again, and his arm trembled from having to support his weight above her. The walls of her sex gripped him tight as he sunk the rest of himself further into her. He stopped when he reached the hilt, and silently gazed upon his new wife's half closed eyes, and her flushed features, and her heaving chest as he allowed her to adjust to the rest of him being inside her. After several moments, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again. Jaime took that as permission, yet again, to resume. Gradually, he pulled out and just before removing himself completely, pushed back in. Switching his weight from his hand to his handless forearm on the mattress, he quickly licked his fingers before allowing his hand to move in-between their tightly wedged bodies. The damp pads of his fingers found her clit with an expert ease - causing her to give a sharp jump and a yelp that had him grinning, especially when she bit down on her bottom lip and her body spasmed slightly as he slowly circled the sensitive nub.

Eventually, a rhythm was found, one that allowed Ashara to lay back and bask in the pleasure he was so intent on giving her on their wedding night. She found her voice soon enough, causing the room to be filled with her whimpers of his name, and ragged breathing.

Jaime increased the speed of his thrusts after a slow, gradual moment, while his fingers continued their ministrations against her clit, causing Ashara's voice to rise slightly in pitch. Her breasts heaved as the pace quickened until her entire body was moving with the force of his motions. She wrapped her hands around the carved wooden headboard behind her as the sound of his manhood moving wetly in and out of her, as well as the sound of flesh on flesh, grew louder. A wave of pleasure began steadily rising inside her as Jaime slammed his body into hers - his fingers playing out an expert tune between her thighs. Her voice reached new heights as a torrential orgasm washed through her frame for the first time. Her entire body quivered and her sex contracted rapidly around him as her thoughts were overwhelmed by the pleasure he had just bestowed upon her. Her nails dug into the wood, and she released a moan of his name that gradually fell into a murmur.

Jaime had ceased his motions when he felt the onset of her orgasm, and waited as Ashara's body slowly returned to its normal rhythm. His brought his hand up from between her thighs and replaced it on her hip again. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion and her chest still heaving – fighting for breath - she propped herself up on her elbows and looked up at him. He gave a small, amused smile at her cutely confused look. Her voice came out tinged with the same emotion as she spoke:

"Why the hell did you stop?"

Jaime grinned almost wolfishly in reply. He lifted Ashara off the bed and flipped them so that it was he who lay beneath her now. Her thighs trembled and tightly gripped at his waist as his cock sunk much deeper into her than she thought it could. Her eyes fluttered closed and she bit down on her bottom lip, savoring how deep he was inside her for a moment – how full she felt. She had grown up hearing that her husband would insist on consummating their relationship with her lying underneath him. That a good wife would lay underneath him and let it be done quickly so that they could get it over with. With Jaime, though . . . with Jaime, everything was done so slowly and so carefully and methodically – like he wanted it to be very much apparent that her pleasure came before his. She had never thought sex could be like this – could feel this amazing!

Now able to go at her own pace, Ashara started out by slowly moving herself up and down. She closed her eyes and after placing her hands on Jaime's chest, leaned over him ever-so-slightly for a better angle – his cock sliding quite effortlessly in and out of her. Her breasts bounced as she increased the speed of her movements – desperate to reach the peak of that powerful second orgasm she felt building from within her sensitive body. Her breathing grew shallower as it came faster and faster until, finally, she quickly reached that second peak. When it hit, she threw her head back and let out a prolonged cry of his name as her sex squeezed him tight and bathed him for the second time in her arousal. Her back arched sharply and her fingernails dug lightly into the flesh of his chest. She could feel his hand on her hips – digging into the soft, supple flesh – as he continued to rock her furiously against him. He was desperate to reach his own peak now that she had ascended hers twice, and she allowed him to, wanting to feel that hot rush of his seed erupt into her when he finally came.

Ashara's inner walls continued to clamp down around him over and over again as the orgasm rushed through her body with a much fiercer intensity than the last one had. Jaime let out a deep seated growl when he finally reached the end of his endurance. His cock swelled and his balls tightened as he finally came inside her. Ashara could feel the warmth spreading throughout her lower body, and she shivered and mewled in pleasure. She collapsed on top of him, her head hitting his chest with a soft 'thud'. Jaime draped an arm over her and took her with him briefly as he sat up and snatched up the blankets from the foot of the bed. He threw them over the two of them, and the both of them gave peaceful, contented sighs once they lay there for a moment.

"That was _amazing_, Jaime . . .!" Ashara breathed, and could hear him chuckle as he began gently stroking her hair.

"You came on my cock twice, Ash, despite it being your first time. I'd say that _definitely_ qualified as amazing!" He teased and it was her turn to release a chuckle. She continued to lay there afterwards and while Jaime remained awake, Ashara drifted off into a deep sleep, that same contented smile on her face. Jaime continued to gently stroke her hair as she slept, and when he finally fell asleep himself, he fell into a sleep so deep and satisfying, that it took him hours upon waking to realize that he hadn't once dreamt.


	10. Chapter 10

**Jesus, I had _not _intended for this chapter to be as long as it was (In my defense, though, this AN is what tripped it up into the six thousand word range). However, the way I wrote it, I wasn't exactly comfortable splitting it up into multiple parts like I did the last chapter. That being said, I promise the next chapter will be a little shorter. I know five thousand words is generally a good cut-off point for a chapter and I tend to like to make that my max capping point.**

**Since I got _so_ many reviews for the last chapter(s) (and considering how long this chapter itself it) I will not be individually acknowledging everyone like normal. That being said, thank you ujemaima and Bella-swan11 for reviewing like always. They are muchly appreciated! As well, thank you Guest for kindly reviewing every chapter I have already written. You are awesome and don't you dare think otherwise :)**

**Love you all bunches!**

**\- Nagiana**

* * *

"A deep sense of love and belonging is an irreducible need of all people. We are biologically, cognitively, physically, and spiritually wired to love, to be loved, and to belong. When those needs are not met, we don't function as we were meant to. We break. We fall apart. We numb. We ache. We hurt others. We get sick."

\- Brene Brown

* * *

He had wanted to stay with her all night, if not in concern for her mental wellbeing. However, after helping her ladies deliver her to her rooms, he had been summarily dismissed by a weary Olenna standing in front of him on the threshold of her granddaughter's chambers. From over the small woman's head, he could see Margaery's ladies lower the dazed woman gently into a chair by the table – the intricate curls of her hairdo starting to come undone as one of the Highgarden girls hastily filled their mistress a goblet of wine. After placing it on the table before her, Margaery gave the golden goblet one disgusted look before slapping it away from her. A goblet of wine had taken from her, her future. Theonax could have told them that wine at that point, would be rubbing a little too _much_ salt into a fresh wound.

"You should go, boy," Olenna told him, her tone firm and even, but carrying a curiously gentle tone that for a moment, Theonax couldn't believe was there. The heir to Tytos didn't even spare her a glance as he continued to watch a mentally exhausted, irate Margaery interacting with her ladies from over her grandmother's head. "It is not seemly -"

"_Theonax_!"

Theonax didn't hesitate at Margaery's relieved outcry of his name. Pushing past Olenna Tyrell, he moved swiftly into the room and took a knee in front of her. Picking up her hand in both of his, he pressed a gentle kiss to the delicate knuckles. Her ladies stood there, eyes wide but they remained silent, nevertheless. A fierce look from Olenna as she closed the door to her granddaughter's room, only solidified their silence. Margaery, however, gave him a weak smile.

"Seems you no longer have to keep your vow to me, Theonax." She told him, her tone trying to be flippant but failing miserably. He swallowed hard.

"He didn't deserve to die like that, Margaery. He was a boy -"

"Theonax, _please_!" Margaery gave a snort of laughter as she closed her eyes and shook her head. She did not move to pull her hand from his and he wasn't sure if he would have allowed it, had she tried. "Renly, however . . . _naïve_, he was, did not deserve to die how he did. Joffrey, though . . . Joffrey might have been a boy, but he was not Renly. He was not Robb Stark, either – honorable and just. He was sadistic and cowardly. If anyone deserved his death, it was him," She shook her head then and placed her free hand to her head. "And neither of them were ever the man I wanted to marry."

Theonax swallowed hard. "I'm sorry. For leaving."

Margaery gave him another weak smile. Out of the corner of their eyes, they noticed Olenna gently herding her ladies out onto her rather palatial balcony, chirping something about the stars being rather bright and beautiful, despite this bloody night. Theonax wanted to smile, but the sight of a bereaved Margaery tempered that. "It's not your fault. You did what your father commanded. I was a stupid girl, to think you and Ash would always be beside me – that _you _would be the one my father would betroth me to. And besides . . ." She gave a laugh. "From what I've heard, your Dornish Princess suits you infinitely better than I ever could!"

Theonax shook his head. "Margaery, it doesn't . . . it doesn't have to be this way! We can think of something, I don't . . ." He trailed off and released a bitter curse before looking away. "I don't want to live without the both of you! I need you both, I don't -"

Margaery's smile softened as she moved to cup his cheek in her hand. "And what would possibly come of that, my brave, brash Eagle of Tytos? Would I be your mistress – the woman who reigned as Queen for mere hours, who bear your handsome bastards while you wed the Dornish Princess and become Prince of Dorne and Lord Tytos of Etna? Would you take me as a second wife like Aegon the Conqueror did his sisters?" She shook her head. "No. No, my love, I will not let that happen. You must go back to your Arianne. Forget me – forget we ever had anything together! Be happy with her like I _know _you are! Stop allowing your guilt for leaving me, keep you from being happy with the woman you love!"

He shook his head. "Margaery -!"

"You know I'm right, Theonax. You don't want to see it, but you know I am. You know that we cannot be together – fate will simply not allow it anymore. I wish things would have gone differently, you know I do!"

"What will you do?" He asked, his voice going quiet, and she gave a weak shrug.

"I don't know yet. Mourn for my . . . _husband_, I suppose – as is decent and expected of me. And then . . ." She heaved a sigh and leaned back in her chair then, where she cast her gaze upon the table beside her. She finally withdrew her hand from his and traced a whorl in the wood with the tip of one finger. He allowed her, if weakly. He knew she spoke the truth. She was right – he didn't want to admit it, but she was. It would best if he forgot about her – if he went back to Arianne and pretended none of this had ever happened. That they had never been betrothed and never fallen in love with each other. It would hurt, but Arianne – the woman he loved now – would quickly act as a balm to those wounds, he knew it.

Finally, she turned her eyes onto him, her gaze soft. "You should go."

The words were spoken on a quiet voice that made him swallow hard but give a shallow nod as he looked away from her. He felt the burning of tears in his eyes but stubbornly blinked them back as he got to his feet. From out on the balcony, he could hear Olenna rambling on about a certain constellation in the upper northern part of the sky, and wanted to rant and rave for a moment. How could people be so Godsdamned _calm _when situations like these were occurring not mere feet away from them?

After a moment, he heaved a sigh and bent down. Framing her face with his hands, he pressed his lips to her in a lingering kiss before pulling away. He held her close for a moment before pulling away from her. Turning on his heel, he marched from the room, hardly noticing that Olenna's voice had trailed to a stop upon him leaving her granddaughter.

He was halfway down the corridor when he ran into Jaime, looking particularly weary and downtrodden and after a moment's contemplation, realized why. Rumor or no rumor, Jaime had just witnessed his son die. He supposed any man would look the same as he did after such a thing occurring. He supposed, though, that he wouldn't be sad for long. Eventually, his sister would give him children - _good_, _sane _children - and Jaime could forget that a monster like Joffrey had ever been fathered by him.

Nodding to each other, they traveled down the corridors to the quarters that had officially become Jaime and Ashara's, in silence. After a moment, Jaime broke it, his voice quiet and interested. "How is she?"

He meant Margaery. Of course he did.

Theonax nodded. "She'll make it. She was always strong."

"How long?"

Theonax remained silent for a minute, casting his gaze elsewhere for a moment before speaking again: "Since I was nineteen and she was fourteen. She was too young to really understand, but . . ." He trailed off and continued to avert his elsewhere for a moment. "The more she grew up, the closer we became until our marriage was the one thing we looked forward to the most. When I was finally shipped off to Dorne, it was . . . it was looked upon as a betrayal. Father and Mace's friendship suffered for a time until my father offered up a marriage between Willas or Loras to Satine or Alysanne, on a silver plate. By that time, I was in Dorne and completely and utterly wrapped up in Arianne – that I hardly thought of the young woman I was forced to leave behind in Highgarden."

They fell into another silence then, Jaime nodding silently for a moment, as they continued moving. After a while, Jaime spoke, and when he did, his voice was as quiet as Theonax's had been. "It gets easier."

Theonax still did not look at him. "Does it really?"

Jaime looked at him then, before giving a shrug. "How can you live thinking anything else?"

* * *

Theonax returned to his rooms with Arianne not that much later, the both of them bone-tired from the day's events and Theonax's mind still whirling from his conversation with both Margaery and Jaime. He was so weary, in fact, that he hardly noticed Arianne stripping herself of the ornate gown she had worn from the wedding and after briefly washing herself of that day's sweat and dust, slipped into the bed. It was a ritual he rarely ever missed but that night, he did. It was something that Arianne was keen to notice.

"My poor Theonax – you look completely and utterly exhausted!" She spoke from over in the bed and it was then, when he turned his eyes onto her, that she reacted further. With a smile, she held open her arms to him and he couldn't help but allow a grin to spread across his face as he pulled his shirt over his head. "Come to me, my Eagle. Fly into my arms and seek shelter there!"

Grinning unabashedly then, he kicked off his boots and stripped himself of his breeches before climbing onto the bed and crawling on his hands and knees over to her. He felt her shapely arms wrap around him as her plush lips connected with his. They kissed for a moment, and it was during this moment that Margaery appeared, completely unbidden, to his thoughts. He wondered how she was doing this night since he left her so unceremoniously, and while a part of him was worried, a larger part of him was more concerned with the woman whose arms he currently laid in – the woman who caused his heart to ache and his stomach to twist into giddy knots. His lovely, lovely, Arianne Martell.

When they broke apart, it was slowly and rather reluctantly. "I love you . . . _so much_!" He murmured, and she smiled and nodded.

"And I love you too, my Eagle."

"So marry me, then."

Arianne's eyebrows rose. "Marry you?"

He nodded. "Tomorrow night or-or the night after – as long as it's _here_! We'll find a Septon and get married under cloak of darkness. Oberyn's already agreed to be a witness, I'm sure Ashara will too, and maybe she can persuade Jaime for extra clout. Then, when we go back to Dorne, we'll tell your father. There will be nothing he could do about it but accept it; he'll _have _to sign the contract, then!"

Arianne lay there, gazing at him for a moment with an expressionless face. Then, after a moment, she framed his face with her hands and brought him down, where she pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss. He tasted salt and realized they were tears, and when they broke apart, this time, with a bewildered look on his face, she closed her eyes and nodded.

"I will."

"You will?"

She nodded. "Of course! I'm not having our baby and giving it the last name Sand. I refuse!"

Theonax lay there frozen for a moment, eyes wide. "Arianne, are you . . .?"

She gave a laugh. "Oh, don't act so surprised! With as much as we've made love, I'm surprised I haven't become with child sooner!"

Arianne had never been taken in by pretty boys, and the first time she met him, she thought Theonax was exactly that: a pretty boy. The more she got to know him, though - the more she saw him fight and brawl and argue - the more she realized that he wasn't a pretty boy - he was a man. He wasn't pretty - he was mesmerizing to her. For the longest time, she had wanted a man like her uncle - with Oberyn's looks and prowess in battle and rumored prowess in bed. She had never seen anyone like Theonax before, and remembered being relieved when he was like her uncle and yet, so much more.

After a moment, he gave a smile and pressed a loving, less hungry kiss to her lips. When they broke apart, he held her close, his eyes closing in utter contentment for a moment. And as he lay there, he it didn't occur to him, not once, that Margaery had never appeared in his mind then. At that moment, his entire world was consumed by the beautiful woman who lay underneath him and the fruit of their passions that slumbered in her womb beneath her heart.

And for the first time, Theonax was utterly happy and utterly content for the first time in years.

* * *

They woke a couple hours later, Jaime and Ashara, lazy and still feeling quite satiated. After laying there for a while and quietly teasing each other over things totally inconsequential, he finally reached for her and she went gladly. Allowing him to pull into and against him, their mouths found each other's in the gloom. Silently and sleepily, they made love again and again until he felt completely emptied of his seed and she felt impossibly, wonderfully full. The last time, they had shuddered against each other and then fell asleep again, this time with him still locked deep inside of her.

They slipped away from each other sometime during the night, but managed to find each other again in the same stretch of time. When the morning light began to seep in through the windows, Ashara's eyes finally fluttered open. Nestled against him, she allowed the haze of sleep to clear from her mind and her eyes. His thigh was situated comfortably in-between hers, and an arm was curled rather possessively around her with his face buried in her hair and the nape of her neck.

The arm curled around her, ended with his hand clasped with hers – their fingers entwined. The handless arm was the one whose bicep was currently pillowing her head. Silently, her eyes ran over the stump, wondering how so many people could judge him as any less of a man now that he no longer possessed his hand. Gently, her fingers ghosted over it and she figured she could understand how, considering the hand that had been taken from him, had been his sword hand – the thing that gave him infamy and caused men to fear him by only hearing his name. She could only imagine how distraught Theonax would be if he was robbed of his sword hand. He would feel empty – almost as if what really had been robbed, was his manhood.

Jaime quite clearly still had that, though, Ashara figured with a slight pinkness appearing on her cheeks in remembrance of how the previous hours had been spent. How many times had they made love? And how many times had it surprised them, given they only thought the number would be one or two, if they were lucky? Truth being, she had lost count, and while there _was_ a certain soreness and stiffness to her lower extremities, she otherwise felt fine – almost elated. She had been right: Jaime _had_ taken care of her . . . again, and again, and again.

It was quite early in the morning, so she was surprised when the door to the room creaked open. Expecting to see a servant walk in, arms full of fresh linens or even the coal-boy, come to resupply their braziers with fresh coal, she was surprised, instead, to see her mother. Their eyes locked through the gauzy curtains separating them, and Lissianna's brow rose. Putting her finger to her lips, Ashara carefully disentangled her and Jaime's fingers before proceeding to slide out from underneath his arm. Bending down, she picked up her nightgown and slid it on before quickly but silently moving to join her.

"So you _did _go to bed with him last night?"

Ashara nodded as she pulled her whispering mother further back into the main room, trying to ignore the gazes Lissianna kept flitting back at Jaime. "I did."

"How was it?"

Ashara bit down on her lip and thought for a moment before finally answering: "It . . . hurt, at first," She spoke, and her mother nodded, muttering that was to be expected, underneath her breath. Ashara paused and crossed her arms underneath her breasts, feeling a little uncomfortable telling her own mother this. She knew she shouldn't be – her and her mother had possessed a very open and free relationship since she was a girl – but she didn't know . . . maybe she was being selfish, but she didn't want her mother to know _every _facet of her relationship with Jaime. She wanted to keep a few intimate secrets between her and Jaime.

After a moment, she gave a firm nod. "It was good - it went well. He was very understanding – very kind, gentle. That's all you need to know."

Lissianna nodded, looking a tad letdown for a moment, before collecting herself. "Well, your father will be good to hear it. He'll be happy receiving good news, for once," Ashara sent her a curious look, and Lissianna rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh. "I told him about Satine. And, understandably, he didn't take it too well."

Ashara nodded. "What did he say?"

Lissianna gave a shrug. "What I thought he'd say: she's dead to him. She's made her decision, and however much we don't like it, she has to live with it and reap what she sows. If she comes crawling back to us, we have to send her away. We are forbidden from seeing her."

Ashara recoiled at this. "We cannot even _see_ her?"

Lissianna shook her head, a look on her face that suggested she detested the notion as much as Ashara did. As cold as she could sometimes be, Lissianna was nevertheless a mother, and as a mother, she had no choice but to love all her children, even the most impetuous. "Typhon has taken this decision as an affront to his reputation. His younger daughter running off to become the mistress to a minor Lordling the day his eldest enters rather happily into matrimony with the Lannister heir. How did you think he'd react?" Ashara didn't know, but she remained silent, chewing at the inside of her lip as Lissianna heaved another sigh and continued: "Anyway, I do not mean to disturb you the morning after your wedding night, but I thought you should know that I've found a Lady for you. Lady Eleanah of House Sarwyk. She's a vassal house of the Tyrells and offered to be your Lady. She even agreed to be your taste tester outside of dinners. She'll arrive in a few hours, when she's sure she won't disturb the two of you."

Ashara nodded. "That's fine. Thank you, mother."

Lissianna smiled as she pulled her daughter into a hug. "My strong girl . . . you're a woman now. How does it feel?"

Ashara waited until they broke apart before answering her. She did so with a smile. "I'm sure I'll regret saying this later, but . . . it feels good."

Lissianna smiled and squeezed her shoulder before she brushed past her and left, the door closing gently behind her. Ashara stood there for a moment, reeling with the amount of information that her mother had just given her, before moving back into their bedroom. Sparing a glance at a still sleeping Jaime, she moved over to the opened balcony doors, where she stood there. Allowing the warm sea breezes to wash over her, she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply for a moment. Satine, gone, and disowned from the family. Eleanah, her new Lady and taste tester . . .

She was brought out of her thoughts by Jaime shifting into consciousness behind her. Turning around, her eyes connected with his and she immediately shared the smile he sent her. "I could not have woken up with you in my arms? You're turning into a cruel wife already!" He spoke, rather groggily, and Ashara's smile turned upwards into a grin as she moved back over to him. He grinned as well as she lifted up the sheet and slid in beside him, where she allowed him to enfold her in his arms with a contented sigh.

"Mother dropped by, so that's why I was absent," Jaime gave a sound of acknowledgment and she continued with a sly smile tilted up towards him: "So no, Ser. Jaime, your wife was not absent from your bed by choice!"

He smiled and leaned down to capture her lips with his. "Good to know . . ." He murmured around the kiss they shared, and she released a smile of her own as she lay there, their arms wrapped around each other and the two of them feeling utterly content with the world for the first time in years.

* * *

"So . . . how was your wedding night, sister dear?"

Ashara couldn't help but grin when she heard her brother's voice split through her reveries. She sat there in the warm sun of the gardens, her new lady at her side. Lady Eleanah was younger than she had expected – a few years older than her at the max. Her hair was so fine and blonde that it appeared almost white in the light of the sun. Her face was long and angular, but she nevertheless possessed a certain comeliness to her that would not make it hard for her to find a husband given time. She was quiet and demure and Ashara liked her already. She hoped they would get along rather famously.

They sat there on the stone bench, Eleanah with her expert needlepoint and Ashara with a book of Braavosi poetry in her hand. Theonax, still grinning, took a seat beside her, and gazed at her rather expectantly. She nodded. "Good morning, brother. How was _your _night?"

He shook his head. "Nuh-uh, I asked _you _first! I'll tell you after you tell me."

Ashara gave an indulgent smile as she closed her book and set it aside. Shifting to Eleanah, she asked if she would please go fetch them some wine. Eleanah nodded and set aside her needlepoint. After giving a slight curtsy, she moved off to fetch them drinks. It was then that Ashara shifted to face him and he did the same, a look of mock seriousness on his face that had her threatening to break out into laughter. His eyes, though, were dark and hard – the eyes of a protective older brother wanting to know if he needed to go beat some sense into her new husband. Her heart warmed towards him, and after a moment, she did manage to speak, however, it came out laced with amusement. "It went rather well. Jaime was considerate and kind. He was more than I could have ever hoped for."

Theonax grinned again, and winked. "How many times did he . . . you know? Sail your Narrow Sea? Light your fire . . .? Come on, I've got loads more, Ash – don't make me say them!" He spoke with a laugh, and Ashara's cheeks grew pink at her brother's words, and she looked away. He gave another laugh and rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Ash! I'm not mother – I'm your completely nonjudgmental older brother! And besides, if it makes you feel better, I've probably gone more times in one night than you _or _your Lion ever has! So come on, spill!"

Ashara shook her head. "I . . . don't know."

Theonax shook his head, a look of confusion on his face. "You don't know? What do you mean you don't know? How do you _not _know how many times you've fucked someone?"

Ashara gave a weak shrug, feeling suddenly very warm and uncomfortable. "I don't know because I . . . I lost count . . ." She trailed off, her voice going suddenly very quiet. Theonax sat there and blinked for a few seconds before suddenly breaking out in a broad grin. Shaking his head, he finally spoke:

"If there was any doubt I ever had over you being my little sister, they are _gone_ now!" He spoke, and Ashara gave another smile as she quickly changed the subject.

"So . . . how was your night?"

The grin disappeared from Theonax's face then, and he looked away, chewing absentmindedly on the inside of his cheek. "Arianne's with child. She told me last night." He spoke, quietly, and Ashara's eyes widened.

"Theonax, that's wonderful!"

He nodded. "It would be . . . if there was any chance of that marriage contract being signed before the baby is born. Unless we're married, my child will born with the last name 'Sand' instead of 'Tytos' like it should," He turned to gaze at her then, a real look of seriousness on his face. She swallowed hard. "We want to get married here, Ash – father's already given his permission. We want to find a Septon who will do it under cover of night, and Oberyn has already agreed to be a witness. We need one more, maybe two – that way, there will be no doubt that it was done legitimately. We want you to be the other witness, and Jaime, if possible. Can you persuade him?"

There was no doubt in her mind that Jaime would say yes if she asked him. There was no doubt in her mind that Jaime would do _anything _she asked him to do, with little to no questions at this point. She was flattered and honored he would put so much blind faith and trust in her despite any real love between them, and supposed it was the amount of affection he held for her, that allowed him to make such promises to her.

Affection that _bordered _on love, anyway.

After a moment, Ashara shook her head and looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. "Theonax, I don't . . . I don't know what to say -"

"Say _yes_!" He hissed, as he reached forward to take her hands in his. His gaze was fierce but pleading – completely emphatic in the amount of emotion he was feeling at that moment. "You're happy, Ashara, because you married a man you can grow to love! I love Arianne and I would cut off my _hand _if it meant I could marry her! Help me, here, Ashara. Allow me to marry the woman I love – allow my child to be born with _my_ name instead of a bastard's. _Please_, Ash!"

Eleanah had returned by then, a tray of goblets and wine in her hands. Bending down slightly, the two Tytos' took their goblets and she filled them both before retaking her seat. Smiling and reaching out for the goblet in Ashara's hands, she was inches from handing it to her before Theonax beat her to it. His eyes steely, he took his sister's goblet from her and boldly took a sip without preamble. Taking it away, Ashara held her breath. Their gazes had remained unwavering the entire time and when it was apparent the wine had not been poisoned, he handed the goblet back to her.

"I would die for you, sister. In fact, I could have for you, just now. This, won't kill you, though. Quite the contrary, it's relatively harmless, and it'd make me a very happy man. Say yes, please. I have no one else to turn to!"

Ashara swallowed hard and took a sip of her wine to calm herself before finally giving a nod. "I'll talk to Jaime. But that's all I can promise!" She spoke, her voice barely rising higher than a breathless gasp, and Theonax immediately broke into an ecstatic grin. Jumping to his feet, he drained his goblet in one effortless looking gulp, before stooping down to embrace her. Ashara smiled and embraced him back before he released her.

"I'll go let her know. Ask Jaime and get back to me quickly, yeah?" Ashara gave a nod and he gave her another, seemingly broader grin, before turning and moving off down the garden path. Ashara sat there for a moment, wondering what the hell she had just agreed to. She must have looked unwell, for Eleanah's gentle hand on her arm, and a concerned look on her face as she spoke, brought her out of her stupor.

"My Lady? My Lady, are you unwell?"

Ashara sat there for a moment longer before nodding. "Yes . . . yes, I am feeling rather unwell, all of a sudden. Accompany me back to my rooms, Eleanah, and then, please, go fetch my husband. I need to speak with him."

* * *

Ashara was standing on the balcony, watching ships sail in and out of the bay, when she heard the door open behind her. She heard Jaime quietly tell Eleanah to give them some privacy, in which case, the door closed almost soundlessly seconds later. She heard his bootfalls on the floor as he neared her, and allowed a shiver to rake up her spine when he came up behind her. His arms wrapped around her waist, bringing her back against him, and she felt his lips press to the flesh behind her ear. She gave another shiver and closed her eyes, where she reveled in his embrace before he spoke:

"Eleanah said you were unwell?"

Ashara shook her head. "I'm not. I mean, I was, but mainly, I needed to talk to you."

Jaime nodded as he stepped back, allowing her to turn around to face him. Her eyes caught his and she took notice of the concern echoing in those beautiful green depths. She hoped their children would have his eyes – those _beautiful _Lannister eyes. "About what?"

She swallowed hard as she reached down and took his hand. Their fingers entwined and she stepped closer to him. "I'm afraid that already, I must ask something of you that . . . that may have rather heavy implications."

He arched a brow. "Oh?"

She nodded and gave another hard swallow before telling everything to him that Theonax has confessed to her earlier in the gardens: Arianne being with his child, his fears of them never marrying and their child not having his name. Then, she told him of her brother's request: that the two of them act as witnesses alongside Oberyn at the secret wedding they were organizing. By the time she was done, the look of concern had melted from Jaime's face and was replaced with one of expressionlessness. In fact, there was a look in his eyes that chilled her – a look that better belonged on Tywin Lannister instead of his son who had treated her so sweetly over the last few days and whose most innocent touch already made her crave and shiver for something more intimate.

"You do realize what he suggests, could risk war, right?" He asked, and Ashara swallowed hard.

"My father gave him permission -!"

"Your father, for the first time in a long time, has made a very foolish decision, and, I think, for a very selfish, blinded reason," Jaime interrupted her, his voice firm. He shook his head and stepped closer to her. "Marriage contracts are there for a reason, Ash. Signing a marriage contract is a father giving his permission for his daughter to be married. In Doran's case, signing a marriage contract is, effectively, him giving his permission for another family to take over a throne that has been in his family's possession for centuries! Unless Theonax agrees to take Arianne's last name like all the other men before him, then . . . what he suggests, is nothing short of war!"

Arianne looked down, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. "He is my brother, Jaime . . ."

She felt Jaime's hands take a gentle hold of her face then, where he brought her eyes up to his. He nodded, that chilling look gone, only now replaced with a look of sorrow. "Oh, I know, Ash, I know! But surely, you have to see what I am talking about! My father would not -"

"They are in _love_, Jaime!" Ashara interrupted him, her hands smoothing out over his chest as she spoke. She shook her head, feeling guilty for trying to talk him into doing something he quite clearly did not want to do. His gaze turned slightly pleading, but she powered on, despite it. "They want what we have – what we _will _have!" She quickly corrected herself, only to see a slight smile appear on Jaime's face. "Is that too much to ask? Is it too much to ask for your child to be born with your last name instead of a bastard's?"

"This isn't the right way to go about this, Ash." Jaime told her, quietly, gently, and she nodded, sensing she had him on the brink of agreeing to do this with her.

"I know. But quite clearly, the right way hasn't been working out for them so far, now has it?" Jaime released a sigh then, and looked away. After a moment of submerging himself deep in his thoughts, he shook his head and gave an ironic sounding laugh. "The things I do for love . . ." He murmured, almost wistfully, and Ashara couldn't help but break out in a broad grin. Launching herself in his arms, he laughed as she pressed kisses to every inch of his face.

"My darling Knight, my hopeless romantic, my loving husband – I'll let them know immediately!" She cooed, and Jaime continued to laugh before her lips finally caught ahold of his. He held her as they kissed – as it deepened into one of love and passion. When they finally broke apart, she held him close and allowed a sly smile to come to her face – one that Jaime couldn't help but allow the corners of his mouth to tug upwards at. "Come to bed with me, my husband . . ." She murmured, only for him to grin and laugh. He shook his head although she did manage to catch the new lazy gleam that had entered his eyes upon her words.

"It is the middle of the day, Ash! I have duties . . ."

She cocked an amused eyebrow. "And what of the duties to your new wife, Kingslayer? Would the mighty Tywin Lannister really begrudge us time together if we came back and announced that we had conceived his grandchild in the interim?"

Jaime gave a slow nod as a smile appeared on his face. "Come to think of it . . . I think I _can_ spare an hour or two for my wife . . ." He spoke as he began ambling them back towards the bed. A smile spread across her face as she allowed him to steer her. She nodded.

"Really? Only two?"

"Ash, please! I can get a lot done in two hours!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Holy _shit _this chapter was frustrating as all hell to write (which is why I'm a little late with my updating)! I mean, seriously, it did _not _want to get written! The first part went by smoothly, but dammit, when I got to the second part, it went "Nope!" and I had to force it out, kicking and screaming. The reason for this is, I did include a wedding ceremony under the religion of the Lord of the Light in the second part. Considering that the great George R.R. Martin has _never _given any indication that there _are _Lord of Light marriage ceremonies, let alone hints of how they go, I had to make it all up as I went along.**

** And I am not happy with it. **

**Not happy at all.**

**With that being said:**

**ujemaima: Yes, I do plan on shit majorly hitting the fan with Theonax and Arianne and Doran. In fact, this secret wedding they just had, is the catalyst for the entirety of Theonax's plot-line for this fic. Jaime and Ashara's, well . . . ehh, not so much yet.**

**As always, thank you, Bella-Swan11, thank you for reviewing. They are great, as always.**

**So, without further ado:**

**Read, review, and enjoy!**

**\- Nagiana**

* * *

"The chain of wedlock is so heavy that it takes two to carry it - and sometimes three."

– Heraclitus

* * *

The gardens looked ominous at night, Ashara decided, as she and Jaime swiftly cleared them in the direction of the Great Sept. They passed guardsmen on their nightly rounds that, thankfully, ignored them instead of harassing them thanks to Jaime, however, their presence in the gardens at night nevertheless lent the beautiful area a certain threatening tone that it didn't possess during the mornings and afternoons, when the light of day bathed everything in a beautiful, innocent light.

A guardsman passed them and immediately – reflexively - Ashara shrank away from him, avoiding his eyes as she did so. The guard sent her a curious look and slowed, looking like he was going to stop them. However, he continued on when Jaime thankfully negated that by pulling her closer into his side and shooting the guardsman a dark look. The guard looked away, not wanting his gaze to linger on Jaime's for long. Hand or no hand, swordsman or no swordsman, Jaime was still a Lannister, and, thanks to Tywin, still part of a very much feared family.

Their fingers intertwined and she hurried to keep up with his much larger gait. "How much longer?" She hissed, and Jaime spared her merely a glance over his shoulder before returning his eyes onto the path ahead of them.

"Not very much longer now," He sent her a small, comforting smile next. "Don't be nervous. You're safe with me, Ash."

Ashara wanted to say that she would have felt truly safe with the Jaime who still possessed his sword hand, but immediately bit back her tongue. She didn't care about his sword hand – never had, and she had made that quite plain quite frequently. And she was sure he was still a force to be reckoned with, with his other hand, although maybe not to the degree he had been with his dominant hand. She knew it was just the palpable air of the gardens at night, as well as the reason exactly _why_ they were on their way to the Sept of Baelor in the middle of the night, that made her as nervous as she was. She also knew the words would hurt him much more than she ever wished to, so she quickly cast them from her mind. That, and he still had his reputation and his family name. Those two things were more fearsome than any sword he could have wielded, she thought.

When they finally reached the towering edifice of the Sept, they slowed, for which Ashara was thankful. She thought she had started to develop a stitch in her chest at the pace they had been going, and was glad she could finally take a breather, even if it was for but a second. She had also been thankful the roads had been semi-clear the entire way there. They hadn't taken a litter or a horse for anonymity sake, and she could sense Jaime's tenseness the entire time, and knew he had been raking his brain over what he would do if they were attacked. The Lannisters weren't well liked in King's Landing, especially the Kingslayer and the Queen's incestuous brother. And she doubted she would be looked at any better for being his wife.

She caught him looking over his shoulder multiple times as they moved, scanning the area behind them for followers. A look of uneasiness would often be on his face – a look that would not disappear, only soften, when his eyes would inevitably lock with hers. It warmed her heart, knowing that look and his tenseness was because he was worried for her. He didn't relish her being out on the streets of King's Landing alone at night, even with him. _Especially _with him, now that it was common knowledge he was no longer a major threat in any skirmish.

"He said to take a side door – that the ceremony would take place in a Septon's chambers, not in the main hall." She spoke, and Jaime quickly nodded. Looking down the alleyway running alongside the Sept and deeming it safe, he started off quickly down the alley to the side service door. Ashara's hand was clammy in his, and he didn't blame her. The same thoughts running through her mind, were the exact same thoughts that were probably running through his, along with a few choice others, that was.

The door opened when they neared it, revealing an anxious looking Theonax. He relaxed when he saw it was them, though, and held the door open wider. "Finally, you two made it!" He hissed, and Ashara glanced up at Jaime as they came to a stop. He was looking around, again, on high alert, leaving Ashara to answer her brother.

"Sorry. We came as fast as we were able." She told him, and Theonax nodded, still appearing slightly anxious. He opened the door so that they could enter.

"Well, come on, then. Let's get this over with."

Ashara nodded as she entered first. Jaime hung back, his hand appearing on Theonax's forearm as he did so, in a tight, warning grip. Immediately, Theonax's eyes darkened, causing Jaime to give a tight smile. "You do realize what you're doing, right?"

"Doing what?"

"_This_!" Jaime answered, his upper lip curling as he hissed out the word. "What you are doing, risks war. What you are doing, if found out, can condemn everyone here. You do know what that means, right?"

Theonax didn't yank his hand out of his brother-in-law's grip - knowing it was too strong - but every line of his body _was_ tense, as if he was readying himself for a potential fight. "It won't come to that."

Jaime smirked. "Oh really? Then what _else _could _possibly _come of this? You are marrying the heiress _and_ the Princess of Dorne behind her father's back, and without a marriage contract being signed beforehand. If that doesn't have: "Let's go start a war!" written all over it, then I don't know what does!" He shook his head. "I have to say, Theonax . . . I never would have pegged you as doing something as stupid as this."

"Then _why_ are you here?" Theonax snarled, his violet eyes lighting up with anger, and Jaime's jaw hardened.

"I'm here for Ash. I'm here because she asked me to be here. I'm here to make sure _you_ don't make her do anything else as stupid and reputation shattering as being a witness to a marriage that _shouldn't _be taking place!"

Theonax gave a snort of laughter. "Oh, so you're here to _protect _her? Because you _care _for her?" He asked, and Jaime nodded, feeling his jaw harden again at the younger man's tone. He didn't like it – not one bit.

"Yes. I'm here because, as her husband, I'm her protector. And yes, I'm also here because I care for her. In fact, I'm doing what you _should _be doing!"

"How _dare_ -!" Theonax snarled, but Jaime was already on a roll and showed no hint of stopping. He shook his head.

"I'd be damned if I _ever _would have allowed my sister to be a witness to something like this! I'd be damned if I would _ever _have allowed myself to willingly put her in as much hot water as this will put Ash in as soon as this is found out."

He remembered the sight of Bran Stark's shocked face as he pulled him up into view from his fragile hold on the stone windowsill; the sight of his small, broken body lying on the ground stories below them, and immediately took that back.

Theonax smirked, bringing Jaime out of his thoughts. It was a smirk that immediately made Jaime know he wasn't going to like what Theonax was going to say next. "Well, we all know you've done things for your sister that I would never _dream _of doing to Ash, so, excuse me if I don't think the two of you are a good example."

White hot anger filled Jaime's entire being for a moment – so hot and so all-encompassing that - for a brief moment - Jaime's vision darkened until he was almost blind with rage. He stepped closer to him and immediately, Theonax tensed further, his jaw hardening and his hands rolling into fists at his sides. "If you think I would _ever _hurt Ash, or _let _anything hurt her, then you -!"

A small, tentative voice speaking his name caused Jaime's head to immediately cool, and his voice to come to an abrupt stop. The both of them turned to see a clearly nervous Ashara standing a couple feet away from them, hands wringing slightly in front of her stomach. Her wide eyes were on Jaime, and for a moment, he stood there, wondering how long she had been there and how much she had heard. Theonax, too, held a look on his face that suggested he, too, was a little afraid at what she had heard.

"The . . . things are ready to begin. Arianne is waiting for you, brother." She spoke, quietly, and the both of them nodded. Jaime swallowed and released Theonax, who slowly withdrew his arm and stepped back from the older man. Avoiding his sister's gaze, he moved past her and down the corridor towards the Septon's quarters where Arianne and Oberyn were most probably waiting for them - leaving Jaime and Ashara alone together.

Jaime was the first to break it – unable to stand the suddenly uncomfortable silence between them. "Look, Ash, I don't -"

"I want to apologize for my brother. Sometimes, Theonax speaks before he registers what he says," She spoke, interrupting him. Her eyes were on the tiled marble floor underneath their feet, avoiding his gaze. "But he is still my brother, and he is protective of me. I know . . ." She swallowed hard. "I know you know how that is. And he did not . . . _coerce_ me into doing this – in the end, I asked you to do this of my own volition, Jaime. I _wanted _to be a witness because he _is _my brother, and I love him, and I want him to be happy, too. And he _is_ happy with Arianne," She finally turned her eyes up onto his then, her gaze holding a fierce gleam that he had not seen there before and which made him smile. He was happy to know his new wife could have a little bite to her. "Jaime, if we were in their places, Theonax would agree to be a witness with no hesitation, what-so-ever. I think you know that."

It took a moment of Jaime watching her with that unnervingly expressionless look on his face (was that expression inherent of all Lannisters?) before he gave a small smile and a nod. Moving over to her, hand taking hers, he gave another nod. "I know. And _I'm _sorry, too. I was the older one in the situation – I should have known better than to let Theonax's words get to me, especially considering they _are not true _anymore!"

She knew he was referring to the below-the-belt quip her brother had made about him and Cersei (and which quips he was often fond of making. He took a perverse pleasure in seeing the faces of his adversaries drain of color and become speechless), but ignored it. She didn't like being reminded of that fact – that part of her husband's history. She didn't like knowing that her husband's longest relationship had been with his own sister, and that his three children were their incestuous love children. In fact, if she was being perfectly honest, she would have rather buried her head in the sand in denial, than believe that the relationship between them had ever taken place. That the blonde locks of Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen were due to extremely dominant Lannister genes, instead of . . . _that_.

She supposed - in that regard, anyway - that she and Tywin Lannister were not all that different.

After a moment, she gave a small smile and a nod. "I know. I take comfort in that," She confessed, and Jaime shared her smile before bending down and planting a soft kiss at the corner of her mouth. A hand came up to grip his neck as he pulled away from her, catching him before he move too far away. "You call that a kiss, Kingslayer?" She whispered, and his smile grew just a bit bigger before he leaned again. This time, he pressed his lips to hers in a sweet, loving kiss that lasted for mere seconds before he pulled away again.

"Come, we should go join them. I'll kiss you later, when we get back to the privacy of our rooms, and I can kiss you as much as I please!" He murmured, and Ashara couldn't help but allow her smile to grow bigger, as well. Taking his hand, she turned around and led him into the Septon's chambers, where the others were, indeed, waiting for them. Arianne and Theonax stood in front of the Septon, who was standing before his own little personal alter of the Seven. Oberyn was standing with Ellaria beside Arianne, the both of them shooting suspicious, untrusting glances towards Jaime, but impassive ones towards her. Jaime ignored their gazes, however, and silently followed her to her place beside her brother. Arianne and Theonax, though, had eyes only for the other.

"Did _we _look at each other like that? By the Seven, I hope we didn't!" Jaime asked her, voice barely above a whisper, and Ashara smiled and gently prodded him in the side with her elbow upon catching the slightly teasing tone of his voice. After that, she gave a shrug.

"Maybe – possibly. I like to think we did."

The ceremony started out the same as Jaime and Ashara's did – with Theonax placing his cloak with the black and gold colors of the Tytos house, around Arianne's shoulders. The smile Oberyn gifted his niece with, warmed Ashara's heart, and for a moment, she couldn't fathom why Arianne's father couldn't bear the thought of his daughter happy, while her uncle could. But then, she remembered that her father hadn't cared a whit for his children's happiness - only the political ramifications of their matches. She had lucked out with Jaime, and Theonax with Arianne. It was pure luck that the instant attraction had been there upon first sight, and that they were two people his children could and _would _be happy with. After all, their father _could _have handed them off to Freys and then have washed his hands clean of them, although she severely doubted it would have gone that far.

The Septon spoke as he wrapped a length of cloth around Arianne and Theonax's clasped hand: "Let it be known, that on this day, Arianne, of House Martell, and Theonax, of House Tytos, are one heart and one flesh," He unwound the length of cloth from their hands, and they shared another smile. "And one soul. Cursed be he who sought to tear them asunder."

Giddy smiles were on their faces as they turned to each other – love and adoration the likes of which Ashara had never before seen, shining in their eyes. "With this kiss, I pledge my love for Arianne of House Martell and House Tytos. I pledge to be her ardent protector, the General of her Armies – her fierce Eagle. With this kiss, I pledge my undying devotion to the most beautiful woman I have ever seen or known."

Arianne continued to smile, despite the wet sheen in her eyes and the slightly smug expression, before reaching up to frame his face with her hands. Pulling him down to her, she pressed her lips to his in a passionate kiss that had Oberyn grinning and clapping. Ashara, Jaime and Ellaria gave softer, more polite applause. When they broke apart, Arianne flitted over to Ellaria, where they gave each other a beaming, tight hug, as Oberyn moved over to thank the Septon for performing this taboo, secret wedding that he had personally set up. Theonax moved over to Ashara, who smiled and gave her brother a tight hug of her own. When they broke apart, Theonax glanced anxiously at Jaime before speaking.

"There is another ceremony we are partaking in tonight." He spoke, and immediately, Ashara and Jaime adopted look of confusion on their face.

"Another ceremony?" She spoke, and Theonax nodded.

"I only agreed to the Seven because of legal reasons – to have my marriage accepted by both church and state. But I don't believe in them, Ash, and you don't either," He spoke, and out of the corner of her eye, as her smile faded from her face, she saw Jaime send her a curious, interested look. "Before tonight, I sought out the few Red Priests still here in King's Landing, and found one – Sheera of Lys. I asked her if she would perform a marriage ceremony observed by those who worship R'hllor, _my _God – _our _God – the God of our mother - and she agreed. I think she was pleased to know there were followers of the Lord of Light in King's Landing after all," He shot another look at Jaime, who cocked an amused brow, before turning his gaze back onto his sister's "Here's your chance, sister. The both of you, come with us. Have a true ceremony of your own – a ceremony that will be accepted and observed by the God you worship!"

Ashara stood there for a moment, unable to comprehend what he had just asked her. Truth be told, while she _did_ believe in R'hllor like their mother raised her and Theonax to be, she _had _contemplated on converting to the Seven if it had bothered Jaime if she believed differently than he did. Before that night, she had yet to figure out _how _she was going to tell him she believed differently, but, apparently, that conversation would be coming much quicker than she had anticipated thanks to her brother. She wasn't ready.

After a moment, she shook her head. "Theonax, I don't think it's appropriate -"

"Sure."

Ashara and Theonax's eyes both widened upon Jaime speaking, and when they both turned to face him, he gave a nonchalant shrug. "Sure, why not?" He repeated, before giving her a smile. "It's not every day a nonbeliever witnesses a Red Ritual. And, besides, if Ashara is a believer and wishes for this to happen, then so do I. Anything to make her happy."

Ashara couldn't help but allow a broad grin to spread across her face. "Are you sure?" She asked, and Jaime nodded.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" He gave a laugh. "I was never a big believer of the Seven, anyway. What have they ever done for me?"

Ashara turned back to Theonax and nodded. He smiled. "_You _sure?"

She nodded, and glanced back at Jaime before nodding herself. "Of course! Lead the way."

* * *

The Red Priestess operated out of her modestly sized home, which was both her abode and a ramshackle temple to R'hllor, along the River Row. Ashara imagined it mainly catered to those sailors from Essos who identified as followers of R'hllor, and for a moment, she wondered why there wasn't actually a legitimate temple to the Red God, considering King's Landing possessed the biggest harbor in Westeros, rivaled only by that of Oldtown, who _did _possess a Red Temple. Then, she remembered that King's Landing was also the seat of the Seven, and realized why.

Lit braziers were at all four corners of the house, and roared constantly, Ashara figured. They were all scented – the air choked with frankincense and myrrh and other sharp, smoky incense. The woman who greeted them, clad in long red robes, was an older woman – face marred by wrinkles and hair so fine and white, it seemed to be made of spider silk. She was small and delicate underneath her red robes – almost as if she would blow away in the right breeze, and greeted them with a smile as warm as the fires surrounding them.

"You must be Ser. Theonax. I am Sheera of Lys – it is good to finally make your acquaintance," She spoke, and Theonax nodded as she turned her eyes onto Ashara and Jamie. Her smiled widened but did not lose any of its warmth. "And you . . . you are Ashara Tytos and Jaime Lannister."

"How did you know?" Ashara asked, her eyebrows furrowing gently in curiosity, and the old Priestess' smile took on a slightly secretive edge.

"The flames foretold of you and your husband's arrival," She spoke before giving a shrug. "And, the fact that your marriage is still being whispered about by the small folk. Choose whichever one you wish to believe," She turned back to Theonax. "I understand that you wish for a marriage ceremony to be performed?"

Theonax gave a nod before motioning towards Ashara and Jaime. Glancing at him, Ashara noticed Arianne sticking as close to Theonax as she could – gazing at the space around them with thinly veiled distrust. Ashara wondered if Arianne was a follower of the Seven, and if Theonax had to persuade her into taking part in this ceremony of his.

"Correct. Ash and Jaime want one too."

Sheera of Lys turned an interested look onto them then. "You do too? I must confess, Ser. Jaime - I had not expected to ever see a Lannister step foot in a temple dedicated to the Red God."

Jaime gave a shrug, although Ashara noticed the tenseness of his frame as he stood behind her, a protective arm looped around her middle. "Whatever it takes to make Ash happy." He spoke, and Sheera nodded, a look on her face that they couldn't rightly place.

"Interesting . . . mayhap you two are who was foretold . . ."

"Foretold?" Theonax spoke, looks of confusion entering the gazes of everyone there, and Sheera of Lys adopted an almost amused smile as she nodded and turned around, where she moved up to the alter of R'hllor behind her. She spoke as she moved, her voice strong despite her size and age:

"'Under the eye of the Great Other, among caverns of gold, a child shall be birthed, from dragon fire and limbs of gold. A blade, he shall forge – one of light and life and flame – Lightbringer, fit for a Conqueror and a friend.'" She turned around to face them then, that same amused smile on her face. "Take that as you will."

They all stood there in confusion for a moment, before she nodded to Jaime and Ashara. "Lord and Lady Lannister, would you like to go first?" Glancing at each other before throwing one at a bewildered Theonax and a clearly uncomfortable Arianne standing beside him, Jaime and Ashara moved to stand before her. "Have either of you ever witnessed a wedding ceremony to the Fire God before?" Sheera asked, gazing at Ashara in particular. Swallowing hard, she shook her head. Sheera nodded. "Nothing to it, dear one. But first, I need something from the both of you. You two, as well, when it comes your time." She spoke, nodding to Theonax and Arianne, as well.

Ashara hesitated, thinking for a moment, before she reached up and untied the scarlet colored ribbon tying her hair back. Locks of black and scarlet fell down her back in a cascading waterfall as she held the ribbon out to her. Sheera gazed upon her tresses with yet another look of amusement on her face. "Your hair . . . such a peculiar color . . . does your mother hail from Asshai?"

Ashara and Theonax both recoiled in surprise, and Ashara nodded. "Y-yes. So she claims, anyway." She spoke, and Sheera nodded.

"The color - it runs through the mother's line, or so they say. Her hair is the color of roses, is it not?" Once again, Ashara and Theonax both nodded, wondering how she knew these things, and Sheera gave a slow nod of her own. "Your line is an illustrious one, I can tell – full of Red Priests, Shadowbinders, and Warlocks and Spellsingers – fit to fill a Mummer's song, I bet! Mayhap one day, one of you will care to learn of it," She stayed silent for a moment before giving Ashara a pointed gaze. "Listen to your mother well and often, child – the both of you!" She spoke, glancing between the two Tytos' as she did so. "Like all the Asshai'i, she can be a great friend or an even greater enemy. And with the paths both of your lives will take, her advice will be richer than any amount of Lannister gold!"

They nodded, and when Ashara turned her eyes onto Jaime, his face was expressionless again, however, there was also a glint to his eyes that she couldn't rightly place. She tried to give him a small smile, but was interrupted by Sheera of Lys adopting a smile brighter than any she had given them before, as she turned her attention onto Jaime. She held out her hand. "Well, Ser. Jaime? Your item, please."

Jaime jumped and returned her smile with one of his own as he dropped a ring into her hand. Sheera's eyebrows rose – threatening to disappear into her hairline as she gazed down at it. She turned her eyes up to his. "Are you sure?" She asked, slowly, and Jaime nodded.

"Quite. I have no use for it, anymore. It was given to me by a woman who no longer matters to me."

Ashara had a feeling she knew who he meant, and couldn't help but feel a bolt of warmth spear through her heart. Smiling, she took his hand, and he sent her a smile of his own – that gaze of expressionless and that strange glint to his eyes, gone, in favor of the Jaime she knew and was quickly growing to love. The Jaime with the charming smile and the mischievous gazes and the gentle touches. Sheera nodded and held their items out to the other.

"Take these. I'll tell you what to do with them in a moment." She told them, and they nodded as Jaime took her ribbon, and Ashara, his ring. Turning it over in her fingers, she saw it was an expensive white gold, with a place for a portrait on the front. She did not open the delicate cover, knowing she would find a miniature of Cersei inside.

She felt a sick sense of satisfaction in her stomach, knowing that one of Cersei's gifts would be part of the binds tying them together.

Sheera, facing the alter behind them with the small brazier of flame, finally spoke, her voice strong and unwavering. "Lord of Light, we beseech your favor this night, for tonight, we bind together two of your faithful in fiery matrimony. Ashara, of House Tytos, wishes to wed Jaime, of House Lannister – a marriage that will only grow stronger with your blessing. Ser Jaime vows to protect her from the shadows, for the night is dark, and full of terrors, and in return, Lady Ashara vows to bare him children, with the blood of R'hllor fire and the roar of lions,"

Ashara's eyes widened, recognizing the line her mother had spoken to her many times before. Sheera continued:

"So we beseech you, Lord of Light, for your favor over the marriage of your faithful . . ." Stepping back, she gestured for them to step forward. "Place the items in the brazier. We will know if the Red God gives his blessing after a moment."

They nodded and stepped forward. Jaime acted first by holding out the ribbon over the brazier. The flames licked at the silk but did not ignite it. "I, Jaime Lannister, of House Lannister, vow to protect my wife and our children, for . . ." He pursed his lips slightly. "For the night is dark, and full of terrors."

He opened his hand and the silk ribbons floated down gently into the flames, where they seemed to gobble up the length of silk with a ravenousness that was almost disturbing. It was Ashara's turn now, and she swallowed hard, feeling the words catch ever-so-slightly in her throat. "And I, Ashara Tytos, of House Tytos, vow to bare to my husband children, with the blood of R'hllor fire and the roar of lions. For the night is dark, and full of terrors."

Opening her hand, she allowed the gold ring to fall into the flames. It tumbled over the hot coals until finally coming to a stop, and it was then that they moved to step back. They stood beside Sheera, a sense of heavy silence falling over the small temple as they waited for whatever sign that their marriage had been looked upon with favor by the Lord of Light . . . whatever that sign would be.

After a moment, the fire flickered and jumped before turning a deep, emerald green. Their eyes widened in surprise, and Sheera smiled and gave a satisfied nod. The two items were completely gone by then – eaten up by the flames that seemed hotter than any they had ever witnessed before. "Your marriage has been looked up with favor. Congratulations, Lord and Lady Lannister – your destinies have been chosen, your lives, bound together by the Red God," Turning around, she gave them both an amused, slightly conspiratorial smile. "Take heart, young ones, for I daresay the world will tremble in the wake what you two will accomplish together."


	12. Chapter 12

**This chapter was another one that didn't really wanna be written but was no where near as defiant as the last one was. However, it does actually, mark the beginning of a huge change of path in Ashara's life that I'm excited about. I also know that the timeline is a little wonky again, but please, believe me when I say that, that is intentional. It should level out in a chapter or two.**

** Hope you guys enjoy and remember: reviews are awesome-sauce!**

**ujemaima: I do actually plan on Theonax and Jaime getting along in future chapters. They might not become what one would call "friends" but they will at least be cordial to each other in polite conversation and company. For some reason, I don't think the type of man that Jaime is, would be the type that Theonax would rush to be friends with. I mean, come on, _Oberyn _is considered his best friend. That should say all that needs to be said lol. And thanks - the ceremony was very hard for me to come up with! :)**

**Guest: Thank you for the _awesome _review - it was very much appreciated! Please, keep it up! " :)**

**\- Nagiana**

* * *

"A grand adventure is about to begin."

– Winnie the Pooh

* * *

_A Week Later . . ._

Jaime spent most of his days with Tyrion in his brother's cell beneath the Keep, keeping him company and giving him comfort and company when he most needed it. Cersei was hell-bent on the fact that their brother had been the one who had killed their son, even though Tyrion himself was a fierce advocate of his own innocence. Even Jaime had his doubts when it came to his brother. The only question he could not banish from his mind, however, was: if Tyrion hadn't done it, then who did?

At nights, he made sure to return to Ashara, lest she worry. After bathing and ridding himself of the overpowering stench of the Black Cells, he made sure their bed was always warmed. They made love passionately and frequently, and always fell asleep in each other's arms afterwards. Despite everything, though – despite his brother's impending trial and Theonax's impending return to Dorne with Oberyn and Arianne, the two of them were happy. They were happy and they were content, and every day Ashara prayed and prayed to R'hllor that she wouldn't receive her moon bloods that day. She wanted with everything in her heart to give Jaime a child – a son to replace the one he had lost - and so far, her prayers were holding fast. She just hoped they would continue to do so.

"So, is your pretty little wife with child yet? Has father been jumping for joy?"

Jaime released a chuckle as he stood there in his brother's dank, dark little cell, leaning up against one of the grime-encrusted support beams while Tyrion sat on his sparse little pallet. Misshapen face overshadowed with dark scruff, he was dirty, smelly, and seemed perpetually depressed. As a result, Jaime relished every topic of conversation that came up, that did not immediately loop back around to Tyrion's upcoming trial.

Jaime gave a shrug. "I don't know. Too early to tell, I suppose? Although . . . it's not from any lack of trying on our part, I can tell you that."

Tyrion gave a laugh. "So, I take it you are enjoying the married life?"

Jaime nodded. "I am. I know I vehemently railed against it when father first brought it up, but yes, I am, surprisingly. Ash is a good woman – she's beautiful and kind . . . I'm very fond of her. I can see myself spending the rest of my life with her, having children with her . . ."

Tyrion arched an amused brow. "Fond of her? Is that all? Why, Jaime, I wouldn't tell _her_ that! Seven knows you'd probably wound the poor girl!"

Jaime gave another laugh. For a moment, he was tempted to correct him and say that Ashara didn't believe in the Seven – that she was a follower of R'hllor and that they had been through an R'hllor wedding ceremony a week earlier. However, he stopped himself, knowing that even in the Black Cells – _especially _in the Black Cells – the walls had ears.

"It's been ten days since we first met, Tyrion. People don't just fall in love with each other after just ten days of knowing each other!"

Tyrion gave a nonchalant shrug. "It's been known to happen. How does she feel?"

"About me, or becoming pregnant?"

Tyrion gave another shrug. "Take your pick. I'm up for either. After all, I have all the time in the world, it seems!"

Jaime stood there for a moment, thinking, before finally speaking. "I think she's on the same plain as I am when it comes to love. Taking it slow, getting to know each other first. As for having a child, well . . ." He gave a shrug of his own. "I don't know."

"Promise you'll name a son after me?" Tyrion asked as a small, sad smile appeared on his face. Jaime shook his head. Leaning forward, he clasped a firm, comforting hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Tyrion, you are _not _going to die! There is no proof you killed Joffrey. At most, you'll get exiled to the Wall. Is that so bad?"

Tyrion grimaced. "A life of celibacy? That's just about the worst damn thing I've ever heard of! I'd rather die. And you know me: I'm rather fond of living."

Jaime sneered and moved to cross his arms in front of his chest. "It _is _better than death!"

"Is it, though?" Tyrion asked before releasing a laugh. "Think about this way: if you were told you'd never have sex ever again and if you did, you would be breaking your vows and would be up for execution, how would you feel? If you could never sleep with that pretty little wife of yours ever again and if you _did_, you would be executed for it, could you do it?"

Jaime would say that he could, but then stopped himself before the words could be spoken. He had taken his Kingsguard vows, yes, but had never really gone by the vow of celibacy. He had retained his relationship with Cersei throughout his years in the Kingsguard, so he really couldn't say that he understood. And then there was _Ashara._ At this point, faced with the possibility that he would never be able to lie beside her ever again and make love to her, would be agony. So, after a moment, he gave a slow shake of his head.

"I wouldn't." He confessed, his voice quiet, and Tyrion nodded.

"Exactly," He spoke, his voice just as quiet as his brother's. "Love is a most cruel mistress, is it not? Once you know her embrace, you can never leave it again for long."

After a moment, Jaime shook his head and grinned. "I don't what you're talking about, Tyrion! I'm quite content with mine."

Tyrion grinned. "So it _is _love, then!"

Jaime looked away. "It's getting there," He spoke, quietly, before giving a shrug halfway on the road to defeat. "You can't sleep with a woman as much as I've slept with Ashara, and _not _be on the road to love, Tyrion. I think it's impossible."

Tyrion's smile had grown sad by then. "So you _will _name one of your children after me, then? Think Ashara will allow that? She does seem rather . . . _liberal_."

A silence descended between them again, then – a heavier one than any of the other's previous. After a moment, Jaime spoke, his voice quiet again. "You are _not _going to be executed, I promise. But on the off chance that you _are_ . . . yes, Tyrion, I promise. And yes, I think Ashara will agree to it."

Tyrion gave a laugh and looked away. "I was only joking, you know. No need to be so serious."

Jaime shook his head. "You might have been, but I wasn't."

They stayed silent again, before Tyrion swallowed hard. "For what it's worth, Jaime, know that I am . . . well, know that I am _thankful _for how you've treated me over the years. I know having a brother like me couldn't have been easy, and -"

"I love you too, Tyrion." Jaime spoke, a small smile on his face, his voice, and Tyrion gave him another small, almost sad, smile. He nodded.

"Same here, Jaime. Same here."

* * *

Ashara awoke that morning, to find Jaime's side of the bed empty and cool to the touch. She had grown used to this, knowing that his duties with his father forced him to awake at an early hour – much earlier than her waking hour, anyway. But he always returned for lunch, and she saw him at dinner in the Great Hall, and he always made sure to go to bed with her at night, so she supposed she could bear to overlook his early rising habits. That, or she could learn to silently blame them on his father.

Her breakfast that morning, was taken with Margaery, her mother, Eleanora, and Alysanne. Margaery, dressed in her mourning gown of black and her chestnut hair slightly disheveled (Etiquette dictated that Westerosi women in mourning were to appear disheveled, as if the act of mourning so consumed them, that they "appeared" to forget about personal hygiene), sat there, bleak, and looking defeated (although Ashara wouldn't have been surprised if it was nothing more but a show she was putting on), which cast a pall over the rest of them. A large portion of the meal was taken in silence, with only the occasional word being spoken that was answered quietly and simply and then quickly forgotten.

"Quite a lovely morning, is it not?" Lissianna finally spoke up, once the air between them grew too uncomfortable for even her to bear, and they all gave a unison nod of silent agreement.

"Yes . . . quite. The light itself is very . . . cheerful." Margaery spoke up, her voice quiet. Her gaze, which had been cast down onto the plate of food in front of her since it had been delivered earlier, wavered not once. Ashara found herself silently commending her friend for keeping up this sure façade even in the company of friends, but then remembered that every room in the Red Keep held eyes and ears of some kind.

After another moment consisting of a long string of uncomfortable silences, Ashara finally gave a sigh and placed her knife and fork down onto her place, where she then pushed her half-eaten meal away from her. She hadn't felt all that hungry that morning, and only agreed to breakfast so as to not alarm Jaime and everyone else. Since arrival, though, she had been wondering if maybe or not she should have stayed back and had breakfast in her own quarters. Maybe it was the awkwardness that had been quickly brewing between them all since their arrival, or something deeper that she couldn't quite decipher, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she hadn't been very hungry at all for the last couple days, especially in the morning.

For a moment – a split moment that passed as quickly as it appeared before reappearing and lingering once more – her stomach roiled inside her, causing her to think she _might_ become sick. She stiffened at the rather unwanted feeling, and Eleanora was the quickest to take notice. As her food taster, Ashara could understand why. It was her job to take notice of her mistress' every little movement for signs that she hadn't done her job or it had been a slower to take poison. Her brows furrowed as Ashara splayed a hand on her stomach and stiffened as she closed her eyes – silently willing her stomach to stop its rolling and leave her in peace. In fact, if she remembered correctly, her stomach would do this same rolling every morning, whether she ate or not.

"Are you okay, my Lady?" She asked with a gentle touch of her fingers on her hand. Ashara felt everyone's gazes immediately settle onto her at that moment, and felt her skin burning upon the sudden weight of them. She took a moment to further will down her sudden sickness, before opening her eyes and giving her Lady a tight smile. She nodded.

"Yes . . . yes I'm fine, Eleanora, thank you. I just . . . suddenly felt a little nauseous."

Eleanora nodded and withdrew her hand, and out of the corner of her eye, Ashara could see the curious look her mother and Margaery both fleetingly sent her. Determined to meet neither of their gazes, she cleared her throat and changed the subject, instead. "Was . . . was Lady Arianne not invited this morning? I confess, that I halfway expected to see her join us . . ." Ashara spoke up, the topic of the Dornish Princess coming from quite out of left field. It was a question that took them all by surprise, and after a moment, Lissianna nodded.

"She was, but, I, uh . . . I think she opted to take breakfast with Oberyn and Ellaria instead. Theonax, as well, although he did send thanks for the invitation," Lissianna darted a slightly anxious look towards Margaery, who said nothing, but who did pick up her goblet and take a long, calculated sip of the water contained within. Pursing her lips, Lissianna continued: "In fact, those three are who Theonax insists spending all his time with, it seems. Why!" She gave a slightly forced laugh. "You'd think my son was Dornish by how much he has adopted their customs!"

They all gave bursts of forced laughter at that, as well, before the door quietly opened. One of Margaery's Ladies entered and darted quickly over to the mourning young woman. Bending down, she whispered something into her ear. It took a moment, but eventually, Margaery heaved a sigh and gave an almost weary nod.

"Yes, of course," She spoke to the Lady, who then turned and moved quickly back to the door. Rising slowly to her feet, Margaery gathered up her black shawl. "If you will please excuse me, grandmother requests my presence before court." She told them with a tremulous smile, and they all nodded, Ashara shooting her friend a small, sympathetic smile as she did so. Margaery was quick to return it before moving towards the door her Lady had disappeared through. Alysanne was shaking her head as they watched Margaery leave.

"Oh poor Margaery! How much her life has changed!" The youngest Tytos spoke, a sympathetic gleam to her eyes that wasn't wholly unlike the smile that Ashara had sent her friend before she left.

"I wouldn't give up on her just yet, Aly," Lissianna spoke, her tone slightly clipped. "I would be willing to bet anything that Olenna already has a plan set out for her granddaughter. She always has had one, anyway, in these situations," She shifted forward slightly, her tone dropping dramatically. The three of them leaned forward to better hear her. "In fact, I would be willing to bet anything that Olenna had _something_ to do with the King's death!"

"But the King was poisoned," Eleanora spoke, her tone belying the fact that she knew very much about what she was talking about. "And from the look of him upon death, I'd say the Strangler. Rare and deadly, that one is. There's only three groups of people in the entire world who knows of its creation – the Alchemists of Lys, the Faceless Men of Braavos, and the Maesters of the Citadel. It'd take gold and a lot of it to get it."

Ashara shook her head, already knowing where this was going. "Tyrion didn't do it," She spoke, and once again, she felt the weight of all their gazes descend onto her. She looked at each of them in turn. "Jaime is _convinced_ his brother isn't the poisoner. He says poison would not have been Tyrion's chosen weapon. He says that poison . . ." She glanced at her mother and Eleanora in turn. "Is a woman's weapon."

"But the amount of gold! It would take a Lannister -!"

"Olenna is not without her riches," Lissianna interrupted the food tester sitting at her daughter's side, a small smile on her face as she did so. "Believe me, Olenna Tyrell might put _on_ the façade of being a daft old woman, but she is anything but addled. Lord Luthor was not the one who ruled, and his riding over that cliff was no accident. Yes . . ." She gave a confidant nod. "Olenna Redwyne is very much vested in the Tyrell family interests, and it would _not _have been in Margaery's best interest to marry a mad young man like Joffrey, no matter how skilled her granddaughter became at pulling his strings. No . . . no, Margaery would do much better in a marriage to someone else, someone like . . ." She gave another, slyer smile. "Someone like Tommen."

The silence that descended onto them then, was so profound, it was almost suffocating. After a moment, Ashara reached forward and placed the tips of her fingers on her mother's hand. "T . . . Tommen? Are you certain, mother?"

"Yes, quite. That is the only reason I could ever think of, for Olenna even _entertaining _the idea of killing the King, now that I think about it. It would have been pure folly to have killed him without someone to immediately take the throne after him – the deed would have plunged Westeros into chaos! No – no, it only would only have worked unless there was a back-up – a back-up to take his brother's place on both the throne and in his brother's marriage," She gave a shrug. "It makes sense, anyway."

A stunned silence descended onto them, then, as the theory sunk in, and not one of them could deny how much sense it _did _make once one thought about it. However, none of them got the chance to speak or ask questions. Lissianna turned to her daughter or not, another sly smile on her face. "And you, my dear. You mind telling me how long you've been sick in the mornings?"

Ashara sat there and thought for a moment before giving an uncaring shrug. "Not long. Not long at all. I'd say . . ." She turned a questioning gaze onto Eleanora. "A few days now?" Eleanora sat there and thought for a moment before giving a slow nod.

"Yes . . . yes, your right – about three days now, you've been disinterested in breakfast."

Lissianna gave a slow nod as an even slower smile spread across her face. Ashara stiffened slightly as Eleanora and Alysanne allowed their brows to furrow in confusion. She leaned forward and tenderly tucked a lock of her daughter's black and red hair behind her ear. "Ash . . . Ashara, my darling, _beautiful _little girl – your father will be _so _overjoyed when I tell him this news!" She spoke, and it was Ashara's time to furrow her eyebrows in confusion and give a slightly nervous laugh.

"News? What news? What could be so interesting about me not wanting any breakfast in the mornings?"

Lissianna's smile grew a little bit bigger. "We will have to make sure, of course – confer with Grand Maester Pycelle - but Ash . . . Ash, my darling - I think you're with child!" Ashara felt her breath being stole from her lungs at her mother's words, as well as the air from the two other pairs of lungs in the room with them, and Lissianna leaned forward even further to plant her hand over her daughter's stomach. "You have a little Lannister Lord growing inside you, Ash. A child with the roar of Lions and the blood of R'hllor fire!"

There was that line again: "The roar of Lions and the blood of R'hllor fire". Her mother had said it three times now, and even Sheera of Lys had said it back in her temple at the marriage ceremonies. What did it _mean_?

After a moment, Ashara gave a shake of her head. "How do you know? How do you know it's a boy, mother? Why could it not be a girl?" She asked, and one of Lissianna's brows rose as she sat back in her seat.

"And you do not know?" She asked, in a voice that sounded very much like she was surprised her daughter did _not _think it would be born a boy. "Think about where your life is going, Ashara. Think about every action that has put you on this path – every action that has produced every reaction around you for this past week or so. The man you are marrying having two sons and a daughter. The death of the King, taking one of those sons away from him . . . how can you _not_ think that your first child has not been fated to be a boy?" She gave a laugh. "In fact, if you ask me . . . the world is waiting for that son of yours with bated breath."

* * *

Ashara's stomach was flat; a flat expanse of peach-colored flesh linking together full breasts and a neat thatch of curling dark hair at the apex of her thighs. The waves of the bay beyond her balcony, could be heard crashing on the banks of the beach and the stone walls of the distant wharf, providing the ambiance needed for her twisting and turning in front of the full length mirror in her rooms.

Nothing overt about her had changed about her since her marriage, and even since her arrival in King's Landing. As far as she could see, anyway, she hadn't changed a bit. Her hair was still long and dark and thick – the red still shimmering in those great swathes of ruby ribbons if she stood in the right light. Her skin was still smooth and the delicate color of fresh peaches. Although . . . she seemed to hold a glow that she hadn't really noticed before . . .

"And here I thought I would come back and you would be doing needlepoint!"

Ashara smiled at Jaime's amused voice coming in from behind her. She looked over her shoulder and their eyes met across the way, through the filmy barrier separating the bedroom she was standing in, and the main room that he was. His smile was warm as he gazed at her while laying his cloak over the back of the nearest chair. The next thing to be discarded was his golden hand, heavy and cumbersome as it was. She felt her heart beat hard under that warm gaze.

A son . . . Jaime's son . . . could it be true? Could her mother's suspicions have been correct? Could she _really _be with child?

Could she really be with child this _soon_?

She could not tear her eyes away from her stomach through the mirror, even with Jaime's bootfalls on the floor and the soft "whump" of him throwing himself on the bed behind her. She could see him out of the corner of her eyes through the mirror, as well; knew he was watching her – could see it in his eyes that he was wondering what she was doing, standing there, naked and wondering at herself. After a moment, he gave a small smile and a quiet chuckle.

"What's the occasion?"

She took one long look at herself before nodding and turning around to face him. She smiled. "Nope. Just . . ." She trailed off and bit down on her bottom lip. "Have I changed any . . . do you know? I-I mean, that you've noticed?"

Jaime canted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. That same smile remained on his face, though. "Um . . . nothing that I've noticed. But we _have_ only been married for about two weeks now, so . . ." He trailed off, and she nodded and gave a roll of her eyes, feeling quite stupid for asking. "If you _have_ changed, then it hasn't been anything drastic enough for me _to _notice within that short span of time."

She gave another nod of her head. "Yeah . . . yeah, that's right. Never mind then – forget I asked."

She turned to grab up her robe and slip it on, but her new position in the mirror caused her eyes to latch back onto her reflection. She was standing sideways, and in this new position, she noticed that she was still very much the same, but now she had . . . foresight? Was that it? She could see with her mind how big she would grow in the next upcoming months if it turned out she _was _pregnant. She could only imagine how big her stomach would grow – how much fuller her breasts would be . . . then it hit her, than from then on out, that every breath she took and every bite of food she ate, would go to furthering her child's growth inside her. It . . . for a moment, it took her breath away, and the sheer gravity of the situation – of the _future _– seemed to weight her down. She thought about the child she would nurse at her breast in nine months – the child that would she carry and sing to and who would run around the gardens of Casterly Rock with – hopefully – other children – his brothers and his sisters. She imagined the child that would be Jaime's heir – his son, his . . . their . . .

She was only seventeen . . .

It suddenly occurred to her then that her life was about to take a drastic, inevitable and quite permanent change, and she felt her chest heave and tears bead up in her eyes. She felt for sure that Jaime knew something was up – knew enough to sit up and to adopt a concerned look on his face, but then . . . then the feeling – the gravity and the weight seemed to disappear and . . . things were back to normal.

And then she understood. She understood what her mother meant back at breakfast. She knew, inherently, that she was with child. She didn't _know _it like she knew the sun would rise every morning and set every evening, but all the same . . . she could _feel it_. She could feel another presence inside her. It wasn't exactly a foreign body, but . . . but it _was _something that was a part of her – that would _always _be a part of her. Even when he would be born and then run through the gardens and then ride in tilts and fight in tourneys and wars and then rule the seat of a House that had been in his father's family for generations upon counting going as far back as Aegon the Conqueror, he . . . her son, Jaime's son – _their son_ . . . would always be a part of a her.

"Ash . . . Ashara, you all right?"

Jaime's concerned voice finally reached her, and after a moment, she gave a confidant nod. She was alright. She knew she was. And, strangely enough, she felt . . . she no longer felt the weight and the pressure. This was what she wanted, wasn't it? What she had prayed for? And now, she felt . . . happy, and giddy. She supposed she felt like every excited young woman did when she found herself pregnant with the child of the man she . . .

The word caught and died on her tongue. Her heart twisted almost painfully in her chest, and caused a whole different kind of weight and pressure to descend on her. She ended up wrapping her arms around herself, where she took a trembling step backwards, unable to tear her eyes away from herself again. She wanted to say the word – wanted to say it with every ounce of her being - and yet, didn't think it was time, yet. They were still so young in their marriage – they still barely knew each other, and the thought alone made a laugh of irony tremble throughout her frame, but which never saw the light of day. Jaime knew every facet and intricate design of her body – knew where to touch her to make her shiver and cling to him and moan his name, but yet . . . he didn't know her favorite color or her favorite food. He didn't know that she loved it when it was so hot, the air would be choking on the sweet smell of honeysuckle – that she loved it when the scent would cling to her skirts for days. He didn't know she couldn't stand lemon cakes but could absolutely gorge herself on strawberry sherbet. They knew nothing about each other, yet they were . . . they were going to bring a child into this, and-and . . . already, she thought she . . .

Once again, the word died on her tongue and she felt her knees buckle from underneath her. She braced herself for the hard impact of her body meeting the hard floor, but it never came. She felt Jaime's arms wrap around her, hugging her to him as he caught her – carried her to the bed. She could hear the concern in his voice, see it in his eyes – feel it in every tense muscle of his body.

She was curled up on the soft mattress and cool sheets underneath them, knees tucked up underneath her chin, and there was something being wrapped around her – a blanket? Jaime was beside her, his voice low and soothing – the kind you spoke to a skittish horse with. She was almost hyperventilating – unable to comprehend how their child would be born to parents who barely knew each other – who could still be looked at as _strangers_! She thought of Lukas – her poor, dead Lukas Blackwood – how much she had known him; how she had known so much about him that she was pretty sure she knew him better than she knew _herself_! She always thought her child would be born to a marriage like that – to parents who knew each other as intimately and completely as they knew themselves, not . . . not to two people who barely even knew each other!

And then she was babbling. She was telling him all of this and more, through a thin haze of tears that blurred her vision and colored her voice. At one point, she thought she had been babbling so fast and through so much tears, he could barely understand her, but, surprisingly, he could. And for a moment, she feared he would think her weak – that he would look at her tears and be disgusted with them, because, after all, she was pretty Godsdamn sure that _Cersei _didn't cry –!

She felt his lips press to hers, effectively silencing her, before slowly pulling away. He held her close, fingers running through her hair as he spoke to her in a low, soothing tone in the hopes of calming her. And the more she calmed, the more foolish she felt. By R'hllor, she really was showing her age compared to him, wasn't she? The tears and the borderline hyperventilating . . . she wasn't exactly facing her future with the strength and poise famed by the Tytos family, now was she?

They stayed like that for a while, until the sun disappeared below the horizon and their dinner had been delivered and then grown cold on the table in the other room. Eleanora had entered some time ago and quietly lit the candles around the rooms before silently leaving them. They might have slept at one point, but neither of them was completely sure, and eventually, when Jaime did speak, Ashara almost didn't notice, they had been silent for so long up until that point.

"If you are with child, then know that it will make me the happiest man in the world, Ashara. I don't want you to be scared and think I won't be happy - because I will! To have a child with you would be . . ." He trailed off and thought for a moment before finally, quietly, adding: "I would like that very much, actually. To have a child I can actually acknowledge - that I can actually hold and parade around like the proud father I will surely be . . . I would love that so much, Ash. Especially, if the child is ours."

Ashara stayed silent for a moment before finally replying. "We're like strangers, Jaime. We barely know each other and yet, we're . . . we're bringing a child into this world."

"Then we'll have nine months to get to know each other," He spoke, almost immediately, and she moved to gaze up at him. He met her gaze, evenly, and with a determination that she hadn't expected. "And I'll have nine months to prove to you that you don't have to be afraid to tell me you love me."

The words caused the breath to be sucked from her lungs. Tears blurred her eyes again, but this time, she wasn't ashamed of them. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and he did the same with her, and then they lay there for a little while longer, just holding each other and wondering where the hell to start.


	13. Chapter 13

**This is one of those dreaded filler chapters (next chapter is probably going to be Tyrion's trial through Ash's perspective; maybe Jaime and/or Theonax's too) and one of those that I am uncertain if I am happy with or not. Really, though, in the end, I suppose I will just have to let you guys decide, now won't I?**

**ujemaima: Thank you for the wonderful review, it was amazing! :)**

**bnoell14: Thanks for the amazing review - so glad you love the story so much! And so happy you like Ash and Theonax :)**

**Remember, yous guys - reviews are awesome! Be a treat to get some more :)**

**Love ya bunches!**

**\- Nagiana**

* * *

"You could be the moon and still be jealous of the stars."

– Gary Allen

* * *

Ashara could barely hold back her excitement as she all but ran down the corridors from her chambers, to the office belonging to the Hand of the King. She knew Jaime would be there with his father, like he was before every small council meeting. She flew past the servants and noblemen and guardsmen flocking the corridors, and knew they were turning to watch her go, interested looks on their faces and mutters behind their hands, but she didn't care. She knew she should probably wait for Jaime to arrive back at their rooms for lunch, but was just simply too excited to wait any longer than she had to. The news she had just been delivered that morning from Grand Maester Pycelle, had her positively _buzzing _with excitement – so much so, that she knew she _couldn't_ wait until later. She had to let Jaime know _now_!

The feelings of worry that had been simmering inside her the previous day, were gone now. She was back to being the giddy young woman who was pregnant for the very first time, without a worry in the world. She felt like her talk with Jaime the previous night, had helped out a lot with her worries and concerns. Knowing she wasn't the only one who was happy – the only one who wanted this child, as well as who wasn't the only one who had these burgeoning feelings – made her feel much better with her lot.

Upon reaching the office of the Hand of the King, the Gold Cloak standing attendance at the door, held out his hand and opened his mouth to tell her to stop, but she ignored him. Pushing open the door, she swept inside without much in the way of preamble. Tywin and Jaime's conversation immediately came to a stop, a look of shock echoing on Jaime's face while Tywin arched a presumptuous brow. Grinning, she shook her head, completely ignoring Tywin's look of irritation in favor of holding Jaime's gaze with her own. At the look of utter happiness and excitement echoing on her face that was so different than how she had been the previous night, Jaime's look of shock melted away in favor of one of interest.

"Ash, what is it?" He asked, sitting up and shifting in his chair to face her more evenly, and Ashara gave a laugh and a shake of her head.

"Jaime, I'm pregnant!"

Immediately, the look of irritation disappeared from Tywin Lannister's face, only to be replaced with a look of approval, as well as a small smile (which was probably more than he had ever given anyone since his wife was alive). Jaime couldn't help but grin as he got to his feet. "Really? Are you _sure_?" He asked as he moved over to her, his hands immediately seeking out her stomach, which lay flat as ever underneath her tightly laced bodice. She gave an ecstatic nod and folded her hands over his.

"I got the news this morning from the Maester. I have all the signs and all the tests have come back positive," Still grinning, she reached up and framed his face with her hands. "You're going to be a papa, Jaime!"

After a moment, he couldn't help but grin and laugh as he pulled her into a tight embrace that she immediately returned. They broke apart upon hearing Tywin chuckling from over at his desk. He had gotten to his feet, as well, and had moved over to the pitcher of wine and goblets sitting on the nearby table.

"No doubt this is a cause for celebration!" He spoke, a genial tone to his voice that neither of them were ever sure they had heard before (especially Jaime). Pouring wine into two goblets and water into the third, he handed one of the wine-filled ones to Jaime and took another for himself before handing the water filled one to her. His gaze was kind as he gazed down at her, and it took a moment for Ashara to realize why. In fact, she didn't - not fully - until he spoke to her directly: "And you, my dear, should be the recipient for those congratulations! It's not every day that a man hears that he is going to be a father, and it is not every day that a man hears he is going to be a _grandfather_. And not every child will have a mother as beautiful as you are. And, indeed, it is always exciting for a young woman to hear that she will bear her husband her first child! I take it this news has brought you as much joy as it has quite clearly brought my son?"

He held a look of pride in his eyes as he slapped a hand on Jaime's shoulder before holding up his goblet. Ashara smiled and nodded as they clinked their goblets together before taking unison sips. Tywin wasn't happy he was a grandfather – he was happy that he was the grandfather to a grandchild who would be _normal_ – who wouldn't be the outcome of the incestuous relationship between his son and his daughter – a child that wouldn't be considered a blasphemy in the eyes of the Seven – a child that would _not _be fodder for rumors and ridicule. This was a grandchild he could be proud of – a grandchild that he would happily and proudly call his own and give the Lannister name and allow to be the eventual heir to Casterly Rock.

But it wasn't to Tywin that she was looking at – it was to Jaime. Jaime had that warm smile on his face that she loved so much, and which caused butterflies to take up home within her stomach every time she saw it. He nodded at his father's words, and she couldn't help but beam so much that her cheeks hurt. "Yes . . . yes, father, I am extremely joyful."

Ashara nodded as well, and spoke, as Jaime looped his arm around her waist and brought her into his side. "Yes . . . yes, and I am very happy myself, Lord Lannister."

* * *

It was clear to Tywin when he took his place at the royal table in the Great Hall that evening for dinner, that his daughter was in a foul mood. She sat brooding in her chair beside the former King's empty one (and which would soon be Tommen's as soon as the trial was concluded) her omnipresent goblet of wine in her hand. She had a scowl on her otherwise pretty face, one that he couldn't help but share as he tartly greeted her that night.

She didn't bother to return the sentiment. Instead, she nodded to the young woman standing amidst the crowd before them - at Ashara. "Do you see her right now? Glowing, beaming. Who does she think she is?" She asked, her tone belying all the anger and hatred she felt towards her brother's young wife, and Tywin couldn't help but roll his eyes at his daughter's words.

"Oh Cersei, please don't be petty. She is a lovely girl - exactly what Jaime needs in his life. She will make a very good wife for him, and a Lady of Casterly Rock that your mother would be proud of!" Tywin spoke, his voice curt, as he reached forward for his own goblet of wine. Unlike his daughter, Tywin took reserved sips, and did not miss the pursing of his daughter's lips at the mention that her mother more than likely, would have been fond of Ashara.

Cersei smirked and rolled her eyes. "She is a Tytos, father, or have you forgotten? She is a cunning little _girl_ who is just as power-hungry as her father, mother, and brother are. She will hurt him, you just watch." She spoke, a note of tenuous confidence in her voice, and Tywin eyed her for a moment, his face impassive before he spoke. When he did, his voice was quieter, curter, as he returned his eyes ahead of him.

"Careful, Cersei. Jealously does not suit you."

Infuriated, Cersei whirled her gaze around onto her father, who met it evenly and without fear. "Jealous? How can I be jealous of that little slip of a thing?"

Tywin allowed a small, almost amused smile to appear on his face. "Because, daughter, that little _slip_ of a thing, is the very person your brother has become very enamored with. In fact, that was never become more apparent to me than this afternoon, when she came to tell him - and, inadvertently, me - that she is carrying his child. The heir to all I own, that young woman will give birth to in nine short months. Again, I would be careful if I were you, Cersei. Jealously. Does not. Suit you."

He left it at that, and for a moment, Cersei was content to, as well. She sat there, observing her brother's wife as she smiled and laughed with Margaery and the other girls of Highgarden she had grown up with (one of which she was sure was her younger sister – the timid, slightly mousy looking one, not the pretty but stupid one who had left King's Landing long ago). The Queen Dowager possessed a stone grip on the goblet of Arbor Red in her hand as her eyes burned a hole into the younger woman's hands. They were crossed over her stomach, and there was a glint to her eyes – a glint of infuriating happiness and contentment. Looking around, she quickly found Jaime standing with the bitch's brother and Oberyn Martell, that sluttish Dornish Princess hanging n Theonax Tytos' arm while Oberyn's so-called _paramour_ hung on his. Her upper lip curled in disgust. Jaime held that same glint too – especially when he would look over his shoulder every now and then to catch sight of Ashara.

Originally, she had tried to convince herself that there was no way that Jaime would ever find happiness with the girl. Jaime had vowed his everlasting love and fidelity to her – how could he _ever _find happiness with another woman, let alone a girl no less than thirteen years younger than him? However, as she sat there, gazing at the warm, almost loving gazes the two of them would send each other from across the space between them, she felt a stone of cold dread drop into her stomach. It was actually true . . . her brother had fallen in love with Ashara Tytos. She was forgotten.

And their son . . . their poor little Joffrey. Jaime was so happy with his new bride being pregnant, that he had _completely _forgotten about the son he had lost - the son that had been _murdered _by the little demon currently languishing away in the Black Cells. And as she thought this, her heart gave a cruel twisting. Jaime had forgotten about Joffrey because he didn't _care. _Joffrey was never his, like this child would be. He could never have been a father to it - not like he would this one. he could never claim Joffrey as his. This child - the one that would eventually cause Ashara's body to swell (quite beautifully, Cersei reluctantly admitted) - would be the first child he would ever have, that would be completely and utterly his to possess and call his own.

The thought made her want to vomit, cry, and punch something, all at the same time.

After a moment of sitting there and stewing in her anger and . . . no, _not _jealously, just anger – she quickly drained her goblet and got to her feet. Placing the warmest, stickiest sweet smile she could muster on her face, she picked up her skirts and moved down the steps from the royal table. She made a beeline across the hall to where Ashara was standing with Margaery and the other girls. She could feel her father's eyes burning into her back, and the closer she got to Ashara, the more eyes there were, until the entire hall had fallen silent and were watching them.

Ashara and Margaery stood there, backs straight, and curtsied slightly when she came to a stop in front of them. Cersei stood there, smiling, and observed the woman standing before her, for a moment. Now that she was looking at her - _really_ looking at her - she had to admit that Ashara Tytos really was quite pretty . . . not what she would have originally considered Jaime's type, but she supposed her brother had to make do with _something _now that he was free of his Kingsguard vows. She wasn't prettier than _she _was, by any stretch of the imagination, but . . . again, she supposed Jaime had to make do.

"I hear a congratulations is in order!" She eventually spoke, and Ashara swallowed heavily before nodding. Cersei's smile grew a little bit bigger. "You are with child, I hear. At your age, I imagine that you must be very frightened - I certainly was! However, you are carrying on as if there is nothing in the world to be worried about!" She released a light, airy laugh. "I commend you for your bravery, little dove. Or, your naïveté – I haven't decided which one it is yet."

She saw Ashara's head turn, where her eyes sought out the comforting gaze of her brother. She found it, briefly, and licked her lips before returning her gaze onto Cersei. Her head rose and out of the corner of her eye, Cersei saw Margaery take her hand. The hold seemed to give her strength, and the smile that appeared on the younger woman's face was stronger than Cersei had anticipated it being. This was a strong one, she decided with a slight curl of her lip. Frustratingly, she _was _Lissianna of Asshai's daughter, through and through.

"Thank you, Queen Dowager. Jaime and I, we are, well . . ." She trailed off and sought out his gaze through the crowd again. She smiled when she got ahold of it, and he returned the smile with a cautious one of his own. "We are very happy with the rather unexpected news."

The words caused Cersei's lip to curl upwards again before she managed to curb the sneer off. Still managing that same smile, she took a step forward, hands outstretched. "May I?" Without waiting for permission, she reached out and spread her palms out across the younger girl's still flattened stomach that would not even _begin _to show until around her third to fourth month. Ashara immediately stiffened at the touch and the sudden breach of her personal space, and her grip on Margaery's hand tightened. Vaguely, she sensed Jaime's jaw harden as he gently started pushing himself through the crowd towards them, excusing himself as he went, and prayed that he would hurry.

"You are so small; I never realized before . . ." Cersei murmured, the warmth of her hands burning a hole through her gown and into the flesh of her stomach. She could sense her mother's jaw tighten and her body tense, as well, a few feet away, and only the harsh grip of her father's hand on Lissianna's elbow, kept the Asshai woman from rushing to her daughter's side with the protective instinct of a mother lioness. "You will be all baby, I wager – not a pound of flesh to lose once he – or, sorry – _she_, is born," She shook her head, clucking her tongue, a look of amusement shining on her face. Jaime was growing nearer and nearer to them, Ashara's heart pounding harder and harder the closer he came. She resisted the urge to reach out to him, and likewise, he resisted the urge to do the same.

Jaime had never felt such an urgent desire to protect someone in his entire life, than the moment he saw Cersei place her hands on a clearly uncomfortable Ashara's stomach, where his child grew. The need to get to her - to replace Cersei's hands with his own - was almost overpowering.

"You are so small . . . would you just _look _at your hips – how slender and delicate they are . . .!" She shook her head, her smile turning particularly cold. "Do not be surprised if they break during the birth, dear thing. Messy thing, childbirth is. So much pain, so much blood, so much that could go wrong at a moment's notice . . . and sometimes, all for naught if the babe is born stillborn or dies not soon afterwards . . ."

Ashara swallowed hard at her words, not able to take them as anything but threatening, and Cersei withdrew her hands right when Jaime finally reached them. Forcing a tight smile of his own to his face, he immediately curled a protective arm around Ashara's waist, where he brought her into him. She went willingly, and with relief echoing in every fiber of her being. She fought the urge to cower against him, knowing it would be terribly unwise to show her fear to Cersei.

"Hello, sister dear. Forgive me, I did not think you would strike up a conversation with Ash. I would have made sure to be here if I had known you would have."

"That's your problem, though, Jaime: you _don't _often think," She spoke, her tone particularly cold, before she gave them both a smile of the same coldness. Ashara felt Jaime's grip on her tighten. "Congratulations again, the both of you."

She turned around and moved off then in a swirl of scarlet skirts, and they stood there, watching her go. They didn't move an inch until conversation in the hall picked back up to a dull roar. Margaery quietly bid them to go, and Jaime gave a nod while Ashara kept silent. Jaime, with his arm still looped around her waist, pulled her through the crowd toward the opened corridor beyond the Great Hall. Ashara clung to him, not exactly knowing how to react to what had just happened.

When they were finally in the merciful silence of the corridor beyond, was when Ashara finally released him. Jaime swallowed hard as he reached out to her. His fingers brushed against her elbow. His voice was quiet when he spoke. "Ash, are you okay?"

She nodded, her hands wringing in front of her bodice while she breathed deep to try and still her frantically pounding heart. "Yes," She spoke before immediately shaking her head. "Actually, no, I'm sorry, I lied. I'm not. I'm really not," She swallowed hard and turned to face him. "That woman . . . Jaime that was a _threat_! I'm not safe here."

After a moment, he nodded, and cast his eye downwards. "I know. That has never been more apparent to me than now." He spoke, and she shook her head, her eyes starting to become blurry.

"Jaime, I'm not having our baby here. If we're going to make this work - if we're _going _to try and become what I want us to become, then we . . . we can't be here," She shook her head, her tears threatening to overflow. When she spoke this time, her voice was breathless but fierce and determined. Jaime felt a burst of warmth for her in his heart. Oh, how he so admired her bouts of pure Tytos ferocity.

"I'm _not _having our son here, Jaime, you hear me? Not when that woman can sneak in and kill him in his sleep like the Godsdamn snake she is!"

Jaime gave a slow nod, inwardly agreeing with her. He was terrified for her now. He had never before expected Cersei would ever have been so bold as to do what she had just done, especially in a room as crowded as the Great Hall. But then it occurred to him how stupid he had been in _not_ expecting it. She had just lost her son, she was losing her brother and the man she had supposedly loved for the longest time, to a beautiful young woman thirteen years younger than her and who was also pregnant. Her entire world was crumbling around her – how could she _not _have reacted the way she had?

He crossed the distance between them. Gathering her up in his arms, he held her close. He pressed his lips to her hair as he felt her arms wrap around him in turn. She smelled of lilac and honeysuckle, and he closed his eyes to the scent – allowed it to envelop his mind and fill him for a moment. When he opened his eyes, was when he spoke: "Father is anxious, he . . . wants us out of the city, too, but for an entirely different reason. He wants me to go to Casterly Rock – to hold the seat there while he is away, and, of course, wants you to come with me. I suppose that this is his way of allowing us to get used to the city and the castle there – the lay of the land, so-to-speak, before . . . future _duties _force us to do otherwise."

Ashara slowly parted from him, then. Eyes wide, she gazed up at him. "And what did you tell him?"

"Well, I said that I would talk to you about it." He spoke, and Ashara looked away. Her mind reeled with everything that had happened to her this evening – everything that had been said, but her mind lingered on Casterly Rock. It was true that she didn't want to be there in King's Landing anymore. She wanted to have their child elsewhere, but . . . at Casterly Rock, she would be all alone. She wouldn't have Margaery or her mother or Theonax. She wasn't even completely sure she would have Eleanora. But then, Etna was denied to her now – it was no longer her home. Her home was wherever Jaime was, as her husband. King's Landing, though, was _certainly _not her home – not where she was constantly in so much danger. But Casterly Rock, free of Cersei and her henchmen, would be completely free to her. It would be just her and Jaime and their child there . . . in an entire city . . . an entire castle, all to themselves . . .

Her body suddenly thrummed with excitement, and after a moment, she nodded. "Yes . . . yes, Jaime, let's go!" She spoke, turning her eyes up to his imploringly. Stepping up to her, her hands appeared on his chest as she nodded. "Tell him we'll go! We'll go as soon as he wants us to!"

Jaime closed his eyes and looked away. "Ash, I cannot leave Tyrion – not now, not when his trial is as close as it is. He'll need all the support he can get." He spoke, and Ashara nodded, quickly.

"Then we'll leave _after_ his trial! As _soon _as his trial is done, we'll leave. Can we? Please, Jaime, _can_ we?"

It took Jaime a moment before he nodded. There was a small smile on his face at her new-found desire lay bare before them, and he knew why. Casterly Rock must appear a haven to her now, in the wake of what had just happened – a rock in the storm. And, truth be told, it appeared almost as a rock to him, too, for the first time in decades. It was a place they could flee to, free of the chaining influences of King's Landing, free of a conniving, jealous sister who only wanted to do them harm at this point. It was a place where they could indeed get to know each other the way a husband and wife ought to. Casterly Rock would be the saving grace of their marriage. Casterly Rock would be home to the moment when they professed their love to the other for the first time.

Casterly Rock would bear witness to the birth of their son . . . their beautiful son who would be so beloved by them both.

He nodded and pulled her close again. "Of course. After his trial, we'll leave. I promise you we will, Ashara."

The door to the Great Hall banged open then, causing them to jump, and emitted a furiously hissing Lissianna and Theonax. They looked around quickly for a moment before finally setting their eyes onto Ashara. Look of twin relief spread across their faces. "Oh, my darling!" Lissianna breathed as she quickly gathered her daughter up in her arms and held her close – like a mother was wont to do with her child. Jaime stepped back and took a stand beside Theonax, who shook his head.

"Are you okay?" He asked, concerned etched onto every line of his face, and Ashara nodded as she parted from her mother.

"Yes, I am now. Shaken, but I'm fine." She spoke, and the look of fury on Lissianna's face was almost comical.

"Oh, that woman! I swear, she will -"

She abruptly stopped herself when she remembered Jaime was standing there with them, and quickly composed herself. Her face turned expressionless as her head rose. "That was a very indecent thing for your sister to do, Ser. Jaime," She spoke, and Jaime had to fight to keep a grin from spreading across his face. "Very indecent, indeed."

Jaime nodded. "At ease, Lady Tytos. I happen to agree with you. I happen to agree a great deal." he spoke as he reached out for her daughter. Ashara smiled and took his hand and allowed him to pull her into his arms. Wrapping them around each other, they hugged each other close for a moment. It was a sight that had Lissianna's brows rising, and which caused Theonax to smile and cross his arms in front of his chest.

"I think your worry for Ash, was rather misplaced, mother. She seems to be in good hands, err . . . sorry, _hand_." He quickly corrected himself, only to get a reprimanding look from his mother but a smile from Jaime.

"Yes, she is. The _both _of them are." He spoke, referring to the child still no bigger than the head of a pin inside her. Lissianna nodded, a satisfied look appearing on her face.

"I trust you will depart for Casterly Rock quickly, then?" She asked, and Jaime nodded.

"As soon as Tyrion's trial is over. Father demands it." He spoke, and Lissianna nodded as they fell into silence. When she finally broke it, her voice was quiet – pensive.

"That is not as quickly as I had hoped, but, I suppose it will have to do in the end, Ser. Jaime," She spoke before her lips twisted into a scowl. She looked away. "Just as long as my grandson is not birthed in the same place where that _woman _resides, I will be fine with whenever you leave this cursed place."

* * *

She stood in the low, dimmed lights of their rooms that night, clay jar open on the vanity in front of her, amber colored oil that smelled of almonds and coriander, sitting in stark contrast against the smooth black color of the jar. She stood naked in front of the mirror – much more confidant in her nudity than his sister ever would be; fingers slick and glistening with the oil from the jar, as she ran them lovingly over the smooth flesh of her stomach. Arianne and Theonax's child, while older than the one growing in Ashara's stomach, was nevertheless no bigger than the head of a pin, as well. This one, however, would eventually become the future Prince or Princess of Dorne – a powerful being in its own right.

"What is this you're using? It smells . . . not very nice." Theonax asked as he moved to join her. He wrinkled his nose at it and hesitantly tilted it towards him so he could better peer into it. Arianne chuckled.

"It's a special mixture from across the Narrow Sea. It is said to lessen the appearance of stretchmarks."

"And you're already applying it?"

Arianne arched a brow up at him. "Why wouldn't I be? It is preventative. In order for it to work, you have to start fairly early – before you even start growing."

"Have you been doing it long?"

She turned a loving gaze up to him. "From the very moment I suspected I was with child," Theonax smiled and bent down, where he pressed a loving kiss to the corner of her mouth. Turning, he then moved over to the bed, where he plopped down on it. Arianne was who eventually spoke: "That was a cruel thing the Queen did today . . . telling your sister such things in front of everything. Was she frightened?"

Theonax shook his head. "No, just shaken. And I'm not worried about her. I believe Jaime when he says he will not allow anything to hurt her."

Arianne released a snort of laughter. "I would remove that wretched woman all the same, though," She spoke, referring to Cersei. "A garden must be weeded of its snakes. And that woman, my love, is a big one."

Theonax nodded in agreement. "But Ash is not you, Ari. She would rather suffer in silence than bring hardship down onto her head. Not to say that she doesn't have a temper or she can't handle herself in a confrontation if she needs to – because she _can_! She just doesn't . . . actively bring it on, and avoids it if she can."

"She is smarter than any of us, then." Arianne mused, and Theonax nodded, knowing to what she was referring to. After a while, he spoke, his tone quiet.

"If this trial turns out the way we think it will, is he still going to do it?" He asked, and Arianne paused for a moment. She was thinking, he knew, her oiled fingers glistening in the candlelight. When she eventually and finally spoke, her voice was quiet and hard – just like Ellaria's whenever the topic was broached with her.

"I do not know why you are asking me. You are closer to him than I." She spoke, and Theonax nodded. He sat up and leaned forward slightly, his eyes finding hers through the mirror in front of her.

"Oh aye, I know that. But _you _are close to Ellaria, and there are things he discusses with her, that he does not dare discuss with me."

Arianne gazed at him for a moment before eventually nodded. She turned her gaze back down on her fingers, which had resumed their movements across her stomach. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and mournful. "Then, yes, he does. Uncle is fueled by revenge, and he will have it, if the Lannisters let him."

"He will die. He does know that right?"

Arianne nodded and swallowed hard before returning his gaze again through the mirror. Tears were beading in her eyes, and suddenly, Theonax felt the overwhelming need to get up and move over to her – to wrap his arms around her and hold her close – to never let her go for the rest of the night.

So he did.

Her eyes closed as his arms wrapped around her middle, and she held them there. She found the comfort in his embrace that she had been seeking, and allowed herself to revel in it. "He knows this, Theonax, but is bent on it. No one can sway his mind from the path he has placed himself on." She told him, and Theonax nodded, remaining quiet for a moment.

Eventually, he spoke, his voice as quiet as hers had been. "What is more of a beautiful death than dying for the one you love or have loved?"


End file.
